


Single Fereldan Man Seeks Female Companion

by Battythebat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blackwall (Thom Rainier)/Josephine Montilyet, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dorks in Love, Explicit Language, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Multi, Mutual Pining, Past Female Lavellan/Solas, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6281728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Battythebat/pseuds/Battythebat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cullen and Kaeran are both in need of change in their lives and pretend to be a couple to get the perfect apartment. They realize quite a number of things during their amicable co-habitation. Like feelings and other complicated matters that words frequently fail to convey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bumped rating from Teen and up to Mature due to language.

It was supposed to be a relief that his lease was coming up. He was finally going to give a piece of his mind to the Maker-forsaken landlord who bought the building. Cullen lived in the same building for three years and had enjoyed the sense of independence. Sure, the previous landlord who took him in was a bit backward and sexist ( _"No way am I renting out this apartment to two college students, especially girls...you know what that means? SIX boyfriends, oh yes, no way I'd let them sign the lease"_ ), but at least the building was in running order. When the new landlord bought the place, everything went to shit.   

The first thing to go was the buzzer in the lobby which stopped working and the new owner had yet to call a technician. That was four months ago. Then the convenient storage space in the basement was dissolved and Cullen had less than twenty-four hour notice to clear his belongings; this resulted in the heaping pile of unused furniture and storage bins to sit in one corner of his living room. Good thing that he didn't frequently get company. A plague of nuisances followed: water damage from the roof ( _"eh, just use a towel to mop up the water from the carpet flooring"_ ), botched paint jobs, the battery for the fire alarm died in the middle of the night and the back up battery kept on beeping  _because that too was on low battery_  and someone had to call the fire department to shut it off. The nail that sealed the coffin was when Cullen received notice of the new rent fee for his apartment. He could have easily contested it since there were no renovations done in the apartment since he moved in, but Cullen took this as a sign that it was time to move on.

Maybe things were looking up? 

It was his day off. Fucking finally. Not wanting to stay cooped up in his apartment (which he started to hate thanks to all the latest frustrations in his life), Cullen packed his laptop and walked to the nearby café. Spring was around the corner and it was mild and sunny. After indulging in a cinnamon bun and a London Fog while watching people walk past the café, Cullen began his research for a new home. There were some promising listings and other more depressing and terribly photographed ones. Was it so difficult to clear the clutter before taking a photo? How can one even get a sense of the room if it is inundated with clothing and absolute junk? There was another listing that harped about the beautiful garden, which he had to concede  _was_ nice, but how can they only include three photos of the apartment and the rest be of the blighted garden?  

Finally, he found it. The listing was brief and had a selection of photos that were taken with beautiful natural lighting.    

  

_5 1/2 for 900$/month, includes heating, hot water. Electricity is extra, animals negotiable._

_High ceilings, newly renovated kitchen and lots of natural lighting. Quiet neighbourhood._

_Must be a professional couple._

 

Shit.

Cullen needed a roommate. One that could play along and be his fake girlfriend.  

-//- 

"You know, it would be easier if I just moved in with you," Dorian chimed in. 

Cullen glares, potent enough to wither the small garden his friend is currently tending to.

Despite Cullen's silence, Dorian nods his head. 

"You're absolutely right, Bull wouldn't approve. Or he just might. We do need a bit of exci--"

"Dorian." Cullen positively glowers.  

"Alright, alright, point taken. As it so happens, I owe a friend and she's in desperate need of a new roof but has a limited budget."

"Tell her I'll gladly pay for three quarters of the rent."

"My, so desperate for a girlfriend it seems." Cullen was going to murder him, except then he'd have no fake girlfriend. 

-//-

Kaeran was metaphorically lying on the ground, waiting for the next kick that was Life dealing her another injustice. In just under a week, she was jobless, homeless and broken hearted. Well, that last part was on her and even though she dumped her ass of an ex, it still fucking hurt. She also realized that she deserved her current situation. After all, her blind infatuation resulted in her severing ties with those she loved. Creators, she was stupid. Kaeran has a lot of explaining to do. At least she wasn't entirely homeless. Her cousin, Rhona, was nice enough to let her sleep on the couch until she was back on her feet. 

The living isn't ideal since she's essentially sleeping on the Thedas' worst couch and her cousin has rowdy parties every day of the week, but this is all temporary. At least, that's one of the few comforts she has. It's better than hanging her head in shame and returning to her former lover and ex-boss. Yeah, that was definitely a huge mistake. Her pity party was interrupted by her phone ringing. 

"Hello? Dorian!" For the first time in a long time, the smile that stretched across her face was genuine.

-//-

She can't believe her luck. A decently priced apartment in a nice, quiet area and all she has to do is pretend to be some guy's girlfriend? After multiple assurances from Dorian that his so-called friend wasn't a serial killer, Kaeran set up a time to meet this Cullen. She kept rolling his name off her tongue, make it familiar (she did have a role to play) as she delved through her duffle bag for something appropriate to wear for an interview. Nothing too fancy but she didn't want to come across as a slob either. She checked the time and found she could squeeze in a quick shower to freshen up and not look like she was wallowing in misery on Thedas' worst couch the last few days.  

Kaeran arrives early and checks her phone for any missed calls or unread messages from the mysterious Cullen. He makes an appearance a minute after and Kaeran has enough sense to not gawk at the impressive Ferelden specimen that walks towards her. She has half a mind to joke and say "the runway is that way, stud" but snaps her jaw shut because  _wow, first impressions?_  She probably has to convince him that she's a worthy roommate and making that kind of remark is not a good step forward in their fake relationship. 

At least it wouldn't be hard to put on the facade. He's absolutely captivating.

And then, because Cullen can't make things possibly worse, he gets a bit embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck. Already the guy was dashing at first sight but now that he's looking sheepishly away, Kaeran was reminded of a puppy. Handsome yet adorable? The combination might just kill her.

"You must be Kaeran, I'm Cullen, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." Kaeran positively swoons.

A pleasure indeed. 

"That's me," her voice cracks. Aw, shit.  _Don't panic, don't panic._

Cullen smiles at her. "Don't worry, I'm just as nervous. I've never done this before. Still, I think if we both do our best, we might just convince the landlords that we're their ideal couple. 

Not wanting to risk embarrassing herself, she nods. 

"Before we go in, do you mind if I just have a moment?" Cullen gives her a small smile, adding, "Alright, but don't take too long,  _dear_." Oh, Creators damn him and that perfect voice.

Kaeran takes the opportunity to send a quick text to Dorian.

 

_To: Pavus Moustachus_

_YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THAT HE'S HOT WHAT THE SHIT!?_

 

Not wanting to delay any further, Kaeran turned back towards Cullen, tucking her arm around his.  

"Shall we?"

-//-

The landlords are a couple, Thom Rainier (yes, the ex-con who served his time honourably and just wants to stay out of the spotlight, thank you very much) and Josephine Montilyet. Their previous tenants--of which they will not speak their name--completely destroyed the apartment and the flooring as well as the kitchen and bathroom had to be redone.  

"It's such a shame, you'd think people would take care of their own living quarters," Thom said gruffly.

"Now, dear, it wasn't exactly  _theirs_  so they weren't exactly inclined in up keeping and maintaining the apartment."

"Hmm, besides, I think the neighbours are just happy that they're gone. Apparently they did lots of chanting at an ungodly hour."

Josephine giggles, "Yes I'm sure that's what they were doing. C _hanting_."

"No, they actually were, one of the other tenants actually recorded them one night. Chilled me, bones, blood and all." Both Kaeran and Cullen who were inspecting a closet turned to look at Thom, a silent question on their lips.

"Of course, dear." The last thing Josephine wanted to do was scare this young and adorable couple from taking the place. All previous candidates were not as promising as these two. 

The renovations were costly, but given what was done to the place, the bill would've been significantly steep but Josephine had a few favours she collected from the past. She was sad to use the favours but it was well worth hoarding them. 

"And what did you say your professions were?" she lightly tapped on her clipboard.

Ms. Lavellan appeared to Josephine as an agreeable young Dalish woman, similar in height, with blond hair that went past her shoulder blades, save one side which was shaved to the scalp. Josephine marvelled at the intricate braids and how they added a sophisticated look to her overall look. She also approved her choice of dress: black denim with a light grey trench coat over a casual light blue shirt that matched her eyes. Josephine was impressed by the couple's introduction and how at ease they were in both their presence and answering questions.

"I'm unfortunately between jobs at the moment. I was recently let go from the Grand Denerim Library, I was an archivist specializing in Dalish studies. Government cutbacks." Kaeran lightly flushed at the last part, Cullen sensed that there was another reason behind her unemployment but didn't want to draw attention.

"I do have money to support myself in the meantime, so rent won't be an issue, I can assure you." she promptly added.

"Of course, it is quite fortunate that you have the means, no doubt you will find another employment with your skill set," Josephine supplied encouragingly. Both Kaeran and Cullen were struck by how sympathetic their (hopefully soon to be) landlords were. 

"I'm a security guard at Ferelden's Museum of Civilization," Cullen tried not to sound deflated, but in his defence, it wasn't his first choice. Kaeran tried not to look surprised. Then again, she felt his muscled arm earlier, so it wasn't such a stretch to believe.

The tone didn't escape Thom and Josephine. 

"Do you like your job, Cullen?" Thom asked.

Cullen let out a sigh. 

"I don't exactly hate it, I enjoy the exhibits and the guided tours. I love history and learning about other cultures and their origins." He felt Kaeran squeeze his arm encouragingly. "My dream job is to teach history, however, I haven't been lucky with getting a position. Openings are scarce and applications are very competitive these days." 

"What would you teach? What's your specialty?"

"Military history, mostly. I wrote my thesis about both Orlesian and Ferelden military tactics and how they developed over the ages. If I had more time, I would've included the Dales, however my supervisor begged me to focus on two fronts rather than three." From the corner of his eye, he noticed Kaeran looking a bit awestruck. He did consider writing a book but the necessity of finding work compelled him to put it aside. Every once in a while, he felt an itch to unearth his notes and start a draft. 

"Well then," Josephine looked to her husband before turning back to them. Cullen couldn't quite decipher Thom's reaction, his magnificent beard and moustache concealed whatever he was expressing. The pause was killing them. 

"Thom and I believe you two are an excellent fit. Shall we discuss details?"

Cullen and Kaeran looked at each other and grinned. Their ruse was a success. 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

They had about a month to settle in and live their perfect ruse. Cullen and Kaeran agreed that it would be less awkward if they got to know each other first before officially living together. Cullen conceded that these mini dates would help improve the quality of their peaceful cohabitation. Kaeran’s not so sure why there are so many labels, any more and she might buckle under the pressure and confess everything to Josephine and Thom. Hence why as soon as she returned to her cousin’s flat, she told Rhona everything that happened from Dorian’s phone call to essentially ironing out the details of when her and Cullen could start bringing in their furniture.

Or rather, _his_ furniture since all of Kaeran’s possessions fit in a duffle bag. Cullen seemed to have sensed her discomfort and took over the conversation while Kaeran sat still, dumbly nodding her head.

One thing was very clear, or rather, two things. First, she needed things of her own. It would help with her (rather sudden) transition and an opportunity for her to spruce up the place with her own touch. The second thing was harder.

“So have you spoken to them since—”

“Don’t even say his name,” she gritted out. Rhona threw her hands up, placating her bullheaded cousin.

“Alright, and if they call me and ask about you, what do I say?”

“Tell them I’m out.”

Rhona stopped stirring her scalding mug of tea, the spoon’s handle clatters noisily against the mug.

“Kaeran.” There’s a hint of judgment in the tone, and Kaeran huffs as her already pinched brow creases further.

“If you’re changing your ways like you said you are, you’re going to eventually have to tell them what happened,” Kaeran’s mouth opens a fraction and Rhona quickly adds “and soon, no delays. You _promised_ that you were changing for the better, and this is a necessary step. It’s not easy but you have to be fair to them. You broke their hearts, Kaeran. I know it’s shit of me to say, but it’s true.”

Kaeran has a hard time looking at Rhona, preferring to stare past her reflection and lose herself in the dark concoction of her own mug. Her throat is suddenly very dry so she clears it before responding.

“I did say that I was going to be honest from now on. I appreciate that you’re not sugar coating things.”

“Damn right, I’m not.”

“I have my work cut out. What the hell was I thinking burning so many bridges?”

“Uh, clearly you weren’t thinking. More like feeling with your lady bits.”

“You’re hanging out too much with Sera,” Kaeran grumbled.

Rhona snorts as she picks up the handle again, this time stirring slowly, clockwise then counterclockwise.

“Yeah, yeah. Just promise me that you’ll call them. The sooner you do it, the sooner you can move forward.”

Kaeran silently nods her head.

“By the way, what does he look like?” Rhona can tell by the way that her cousin was pointedly angling her face so as to _not_ look her way that some colour returned to her face.

 -//-

“You’re moving? Where?”

Honestly, Cullen has such a lapse in judgment sometimes. However, Cullen knew that if he withheld such information and Mia came to learn of his deception that his next move would swiftly follow and he’d wind up in the family burial plot, permanently.

“Relax, Mia. I’m not moving out of the country. I’ll be even closer to work.”

“Do you need help with the move?”

“That won’t be necessary, besides, we have plenty of time to get settled in the new place.”

“ _We?_ ” His sister’s voice sounds too cheery. It’s so sweet, he feels his teeth slightly grinding.

Oh damn. He did let that slip accidentally didn’t he? He sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“Mia.” 

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, have you been seeing someone and thought you could hide it from me?” He snorts at that, he knows that Mia isn’t offended, not really. She knows his tendency to keep things close to his chest, only divulging when it feels right for him. Being the eldest and most motherly sibling, barring the fact that she had two children of her own, not much escaped Mia’s notice.

Technically, he _has_ been seeing Kaeran ever since they got the apartment, just not in the actually dating kind of way.

Kaeran’s flexible schedule means that usually they plan their mini dates around his hectic work schedule. At first he was a bit skeptical of these meetings, always fearing that one evening she’d tell him that she can’t go through with the plan and _then_ where would he go? He absolutely refused to buckle down and stay in his current crap apartment, yet the alternative wasn’t much better. Cullen knows that Mia would welcome him with open arms, but it’s the implication or rather failure on his part to find a place of his own. It’s also the horrifying image of him sleeping in the guest room, paralyzed with mortification, and refusing to get out of bed _because this is his life now and what was the point?_

“Cullen?” How long was he lost in thought just now? Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, he winced. He was running late, _he never runs late._

“Mia, I have to go, I’m already late for a meeting.”

“Is it with your _girlfriend_?” He felt a headache creeping in from his temples, threatening to ruin his day.

Cullen made his way to the cabinet above the bathroom sink, shouldering his phone while rummaging for aspirin.

“I have to _go_ , Mia. But just know, as much as I hate you right now, I also love you. Send my love to the little ones and Bran and Rosalie.”

“And send our love to the lucky girl, I’m looking forward to meeting her soon.” Cullen nearly choked on the two pills of aspirin. That would’ve been a lovely way to go.

“What do you mean ‘soon’? Mia?” Of course she would end the call right there. Just as the call ended, the time on the screen flashed, warning Cullen that he needed to get a move on.

 He took a quick glance in the mirror and scowled, not enough time to fix his hair.

-//-

Kaeran fidgeted from her perch; she wasn’t keen sitting on a tall stool but she wanted to be visible for Cullen to spot her in the bustling café. In her haste to not be late she skipped her makeup routine and compromised with eyeliner. Going anywhere without makeup was reprehensible to her and Kaeran already felt uneasy not having applied the heavy concealer over her faded vallaslin. Just thinking about the Dalish marks made the sensitive skin below her eyes and along her cheekbones itch. Kaeran occupied her hands by gently cupping the bowl of hot chocolate and taking a slow sip, her eyes closed with concentration.

“Any good?” _Oh_ , Kaeran thinks _, that’s a pleasant voice_.

The hot chocolate threatens to come out of her nose when she sees who it is. And of course now she’s spluttering and feels the blush coming on strong. Whether Cullen doesn’t see it or spares her from further embarrassment by not looking at her, she can’t tell. He does, however, offer her a napkin. What a gentleman, even for a fake boyfriend. She clears her throat.

“Did you want to get something to drink?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, what’s the point in meeting at a café if you can’t indulge in a nice coffee with a snack?” The corner of his lips ticks upwards.

“That’s a good point. Did you want me to get you anything? Another hot chocolate?”

Kaeran snorts at that.

“Thank you, I appreciate it, but I don’t trust myself with another bowl.”

When he leaves to order at the cash, Kaeran touches her cheek lightly with the tips of her fingers. A mistake, clearly, as she suddenly feels the skin flare up with irritation and she tries to soothe but gently rubbing rather than scratch the aggravated area. She rifled through her bag for some ointment to offset the uncomfortable sensation. By the time Cullen returns with a steaming mug of hot chocolate (with a shot of espresso to ward off the lingering headache), Kaeran lightly brushes the excess of the cream along her cheekbones. Cullen notices her putting the ointment away but doesn’t comment or ask what it’s for. Instead, he nods towards a tiny nook that was recently abandoned and Kaeran follows his lead, thankful to leave the uncomfortable stool and sit on something _cushiony_. By the time she settles (with a relieved sigh), she spots the plate containing two jam-filled shortbread cookies, looking up at him with mock accusation.

Shrugging off his jacket and laying it next to him, Cullen waggles his eyebrows, glancing between the plate and Kaeran.

“Oh, what, you’re going to refuse free food? Look, the center even has a heart cut out.” He’s teasing her, _actually teasing her_. Who is this guy? Kaeran crosses her arms, furrowing her brows.

“Aw, come on now, my dear, why the pout?” His tone takes on a sickeningly sweet pitch. It’s a running joke between them, throwing in _my dears_ , _my sweets_ and even once _baaaabe_ for fun. It was an attempt on both their parts to make their particular situation less awkward. Kaeran eased her frown, uncrossing one arm to grab one of the cookies and nibble on it.

Cullen cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair. It’s a bit wilder today, she noted, pursing her lips with a hint of amusement.

“Oh, I see, changing tactics and going for the irresistibly cute angle, eh?” Kaeran flushes at that. Are they flirting? No, he’s just teasing. This little fuzzy feeling was a good thing, it meant that when they actually move in to the apartment that things won’t be as awkward because by then they won’t be complete strangers to each other. Kaeran fidgets with the cookie, the powder is all over her fingers and she tries to rub it off by swiping her thumb across the powdered digits; it makes more of a mess, spreading it further rather than remedy the situation.

“I was thinking…” she lingers on the last syllable, eyes still fixed on her powdered hand. “Since we’re moving in soon, we need to make an inventory of all the things you have and what we may need.” Cullen nods, Kaeran is surprisingly pragmatic when she puts her mind to it. Clearly there’s something else on her mind and he can tell that she’s trying to find a way to get to the point she actually wants to make. 

“Right, I have quite a bit of furniture as well as kitchenware, though I might leave the toaster behind. It burns the toast to a crisp.” 

“Then you have it on a high setting.”

“No. I know how a toaster works, even on the lowest setting it burns.” Kaeran absentmindedly brushes her right cheek with her thumb, completely forgetting about the powder from the shortbread cookie and smearing the white substance over her face. She realizes her mistake too late and rubs with the palm of her hand to dislodge most of the damn powder.

“Hang on,” Cullen rises from his seat and walks back to the counter. Kaeran fusses over her face, trying to _gently_ rub her face without aggravating it further and throws her hands up in the air with frustration. She can feel the flush of colour, both from her irritation and the skin itself reacting to abrasive handling. Stupid cookie, why was she playing with the powder? Cullen probably thinks she has some sort of rash and—

Cullen returns with a glass of water and a handful of napkins and sits to Kaeran’s right. He takes a napkin, meticulously folding it in half, dipping it in the glass and dabbing carefully at the inflamed cheek. He gives her a small grimace, mumbling a “sorry” before soaking the napkin back into the glass and repeating the application. Kaeran is frozen on the spot for a few seconds before she relaxes slowly and turns her face to give him better access. It doesn’t occur to her that he could have easily just given her the glass of water and napkin and let her tend to her face. At the same time, she doesn’t feel like he’s invading her personal space. He technically is, but she finds herself not minding it in the slightest. Cullen realizes he’s in Kaeran’s space a few heartbeats later and goes rigid. He’s clearly torn between helping her and retreating to his seat. Instead he grabs a fresh napkin and repeats the soothing process.

“I’m really, really, really sorry, Kaeran.” She laughs at that. Always so apologetic, her parents would approve. She shuts her eyes suddenly, shutting them firmly and trying to clear her thoughts. Her mind just _had_ to go there, didn’t it?

“I’m sorry, do you want me to stop?”

“No,” the tone comes out as half moaning and half pleading.

“It’s just that—”

 

Kaeran opens her eyes and turns to face him.

“Cullen, you didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” To emphasize her point, Kaeran nods once, eyes intent on his. Cullen nods solemnly then resumes the process. Kaeran thinks she ruined the moment when things are quiet between them. He peels back the napkin, examining the skin as he soaks the tissue again before firmly holding it in place across her cheek. 

“Your vallaslin,” Cullen maintains eye contact with her “I’m a little rusty with the elvhen pantheon but is it one of Mythal’s?” Kaeran’s ears perk at that. Right, Cullen studied a bit about her culture. It was honestly refreshing just hanging out with someone who didn’t treat her differently because of her heritage.

“I’m impressed. It’s one of the variations, other versions cover a lot of space.”

“Yes, I seem to recall one had a similar branching pattern but for the forehead.”

“I remember the year before I got mine, someone else wanted to go full Mythal.”

“Full? As in the forehead and cheeks?” Cullen tried not to wince.

“You’re forgetting the lower half of the face. It runs down the bottom lip and spreads across the chin.”

“ _Maker_ , doesn’t it hurt?” Cullen’s furrowed brow and concerned tone endeared her.

“Of course it does, and there are no breaks or multiple sessions. We endure the pain and discomfort until the process is over.”

“So was your vallaslin a calculated decision or you chose it freely?”

“A bit of column A and a bit of column B,” she joked.

“Can I ask,” he licked his bottom lip, eyes focused on her face before staring back at her, “I’m sorry if this sounds a bit personal, you can say it’s none of my business but why is your vallaslin so faded? You couldn’t have had it that long for it to start losing the pigmentation and,” Kaeran stiffened, watching him remove the napkin from her cheek, tracking his features while he took a closer look at the faded mark. “Are those?” Cullen squinted before pulling back, concern rounding his eyes. Those damn eyes were still fixed on the spot and she felt rage roiling from her chest, threatening to consume her. She had to stay calm; as long as he didn’t say anything, it meant he didn’t know what he was looking at.

“Cullen,” she addressed him coolly, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cut this short. I just remembered something.” Kaeran stood from her seat, grabbing her bag and checking she had everything on her rather than look at him. Cullen sat there, looking up at her; his face was clear of any emotion. She internally winced, _that wasn’t a good sign_.

“Alright, give me a call at your earliest convenience,” Cullen’s tone wasn’t exactly icy but it was calculated and detached of emotion. Kaeran turned to face him and gave a small smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes and she regretted the action since it felt insincere.

“I’ll be in touch,” she replied, hoping that the parting words conveyed how she felt and how sorry she was for reacting the way she did. He doesn’t know her, not truly. _Not yet_ , she amended.

-//- 

After the semi-disaster at the café, Kaeran hopped onto metro line, groaning at the distance she had to go. However, as much as she wished to delay this, after what transpired between her and Cullen, Kaeran knew that she had to address the root of her problem. Plus Rhona could finally get off her back because she was finally going to do it. Following the metro ride, Kaeran caught the connection and after another agonizing ten minutes and a quick walk through the old neighborhood, she finally arrived at the door she dreaded to knock on. What if the entire trip was in vain? Well, she made the trip, might as well check if anyone was home.

She exhaled loudly and rapped her knuckles against the ancient door. Nothing. She deflated further and slowly made her descent down the steps. The action took too long since the door creaked open.

“ _‘Ma‘dharlin_?”

Kaeran froze, her eyes instantly prickling with tears, threatening to spill on her cheeks. She turned around, afraid that her voice might crack.

“ _Mamae_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, things took an interesting turn, eh? I'm so sorry!! *hides face*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating went up because I enjoy swearing.

As the years went by, Ireth saw less of her daughter; at first dismissing it as Kaeran looking for her own purpose and cultivating her own experiences outside of the secluded community. Then she returned from one of her retreats, which grew in frequency in the last few months, Ireth noted, with a name.  _Solas_.

What a curious name, she thought.

Ireth immediately knew that Kaeran was infatuated with the mysterious elf who was certainly  _not_ Dalish. Kaeran mentioned this fact most emphatically.  _Where was he from? Does he have family? Which gods does he revere the most? Does he have a job?_  It seemed that Kaeran knew many things about this Solas and yet the answers she got were anything but reassuring, especially since she noted how frustrated and increasingly defensive her daughter became by the line of questioning.

“Kaeran,  _'ma'dharlin_ , we don't mean anything against him. We're just curious and want to know what he's like.”

“Don't you hear yourself? All these questions, it's like you don't trust him!”

Ireth gave her daughter a small smile and reached across the table, gently patting her hand.

“We care because your father and I have never seen you act this way before. No one has ever drawn your attention, not like this. It's clear that you deeply care about him. What kind of parents would we be if we didn't show any interest, especially when it concerns a crush?” Kaeran's face grew hot at that.

“I-I'm not some teenager pining, you know,” she mumbled.

“I know, sweetheart.” She squeezed Kaeran's hand affectionately. “I just want you to know that we trust your judgment and that no matter what, you can always talk to us.”

For most of the conversation Kaeran was preoccupied with looking anywhere but her mother. This whole conversation was embarrassing and she much preferred to be doing anything at the moment but discuss the subject of her infatuation. She just hoped that her mother didn't go into the whole birds and the bees conversation.

Ireth meant what she said about trusting her daughter, she didn't realize how much she would regret not having asked more questions or insisted meeting this Solas. In her mind, there was always time; time for Kaeran to figure out what she wanted, enough time to have passed to invite Solas over for dinner and getting to know him. Ireth hadn't anticipated that that conversation with her daughter was one of the last peaceful discussions she would have before Kaeran left home.

Though Kaeran was stubborn, she did make an effort to call every once in awhile. Ireth never brought up Solas, always preferring to ask how Kaeran was doing, any upcoming projects, her work and such. Since she left the house, Kaeran would try to visit as often as possible; her job as archivist at the Grand Denerim library took up most of her time, especially since Solas worked there and was responsible for giving her the position. _How convenient,_ Ireth thought.

She was happy that Kaeran got the job but was convinced that her daughter could have secured it without the help of her lover. Ireth could never consider him as Kaeran’s boyfriend; that would mean familiarity and a closer relationship. Solas had made it clear that he didn’t want to be so closely associated with Kaeran’s family or community. Ireth had nothing against elves who distanced themselves from the old ways, but for someone to claim to be neither city elf or Dalish, that gave her pause.

Though Ireth last saw her daughter roughly a year ago, she wasn’t prepared for the sudden visit. She always asked Kaeran when she would come by and there were always excuses. Too much work, already made plans, having people over. It stung that her own daughter never invited her over. In a way, Ireth supposed that Kaeran knew of the unease between her parents and Solas. They could always have met someplace else. And yet.

And yet. Kaeran came home.

Ireth nearly wept at the sight of her retreating form. She had to call her back. Her daughter came all this way, she couldn’t just let her go. She didn’t fight hard enough last time, she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Ireth quickly recovered from the surprise, rushing past the landing and down the stairs to greet her daughter with open arms.

“ _Mamae?_ ”

As soon as she saw her daughter’s face, she wanted to scream.

Plastering on a wide smile, it was forced to the point where the ends twitched. It was still better than screaming. Ireth finally embraced her daughter, holding a little tighter but she didn’t care. Kaeran was home. After not having seen her for so long, Ireth almost couldn’t believe that she was finally here. The fact that Kaeran held just as tightly to her made her heart lurch and she swallowed the lump that a moment prior didn’t exist. Taking a deep breath, Ireth wiped a few of the shed tears away, not wanting to let her emotions get the better of her. She unwrapped her arms, pulling away to take a look at her daughter.

Ireth wished that her eyesight was failing her or a trick of the light, but the evidence was there; the markings of Mythal were in fact faded and her daughter’s beautiful cheekbones were marred with chemical burns. She looked up from the scars to Kaeran’s eyes, noting how she too was holding back tears. Sliding her hands up and down Kaeran’s arms soothingly, Ireth motioned with her head back to the house. There were tears now falling down her daughter’s face and Ireth brushed them away with her thumbs, gently smoothing them over her daughter’s cheeks.

Wrapping an arm behind her daughter, Ireth led the way back to the house; mother and daughter walking side by side, their hearts slightly unburdened. It was a start.

-//-

Cullen fucked up. Not colossally, but the gravity of what transpired in the cafe that resulted in Kaeran’s quick escape had him wondering if he screwed up their plans. And because he’s a complete masochist, he keeps replaying what happened over and over again, trying to figure out if he could have done something different. He goes from cursing the shortbread cookies to him being a complete moron for asking about why her vallaslin is faded. It’s not like she owed him an answer. It was her face, her business. And yet, Cullen still feels like perhaps he didn’t intentionally overstep, more like he traipsed into an invisible minefield. What a fucking moron, he thinks for the hundredth time while pushing his wild hair back only to run his hands down his face the next instant.  

His self-loathing takes a backseat when his phone pulses in his pocket. He huffs when he sees the caller ID.

“I sense a disturbance in the Force.” the voice on the other end of the line is unimpressed.

Great. The Maker seems to be unmerciful since Cullen has to deal with Dorian now rather than be left alone to stew in his own self-hatred.

“What have you done?” The tone isn’t accusatory, but it makes Cullen feel like he was back in grade school and was caught pulling on girls’ pigtails.  

“What makes you think I did something?” Wow, really convincing there.

“Because I know you and you inevitably screw things up regardless of how you mean well.”

Cullen pinches the bridge of his nose. “There’s a compliment in there, somewhere.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, as though Dorian knows that Cullen needs time to arrange his thoughts. Dorian is right about a lot of things, much to Cullen’s growing frustration. He nearly forgets himself and where he is, letting the buzzing activity of the cafe surround him; despite the controlled calamity of the afternoon rush, Cullen takes comfort in the high pitch whine coming from the coffee machine’s steamer.  The moment of reprieve is over with Dorian clearing his throat.

“Well? Tell me what happened.”

And because Cullen is a complete masochist, he tells Dorian everything. Having finished the woeful narrative, Cullen waits for his friend’s undoubtedly scathing remark.

“I’m sorry but this foot in your mouth routine, are you sure it’s not a condition?”

There it fucking is.

“Dorian,” Cullen is running a hand through his hair again. It’s an absolute mess and probably in need of a cut come to think of it. “Less scathing remarks and more _helpful_ advice. How do I fix this?” Even though he can be a masochist when it comes to himself, Cullen sincerely wishes to make amends. Just because he thinks so little of himself doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything for others.

“Personally? I’d give her space.”

The suggestion is oddly simple and pragmatic. Cullen half expected him to list a thousand and one ways to win Kaeran’s favour again from reciting a devotional poem in perfect iambic pentameter to standing outside her window and holding a stereo over his head, letting some cheesy love power ballad do the talking. He’s thankful that the advice is sound, but it gives him pause. Dorian is taking this seriously.

“Alright,” he doesn’t have much else to say but he wants Dorian to know that he understood.

“Let her blow some steam, you said that she remembered something. Whatever it is, she’s busy with that, give her a day’s peace before contacting her. After that stunt, you don’t want to come off as clingy.”

Cullen scoffs. He sincerely doubts that what he said qualified as a stunt.

“I’m NOT clingy,” he retorts. He can practically hear Dorian’s smirk across the line.

“Of course not, my dear man.” Cullen rolls his eyes, ignoring the teasing tone. Dorian can be a real barb in his side sometimes, but he knows his friend means well. A beeping signals that he has an incoming call. He checks the number and groans, he was supposed to have the day off from work.

“I’m going to have to let you go, Dorian, I have a call waiting.” His friend splutters on his end, but Cullen ignores it and accepts the other call. He takes a deep breath, schooling his features to emulate his professionally calm demeanor when he’s in uniform and at work.

“Tell me that the museum is still in relatively one piece.”

-//-

Kaeran didn’t know what to expect when she stopped by her parents’ place. She had something prepared but then worried over whether someone would be home or worse, that they were home and refused to see her. While being an only child had its perks, Kaeran often wondered what it would be like to have a sibling; it was nice to not have competition, but all she had were her parents. What if they didn’t want anything to do with her now? She wouldn’t blame them, but the thought of having no family ties was frightening. Her only comfort was Rhona who would always support her.

She braced herself when she heard her mother’s footsteps come closer, not knowing what to expect. Would her own mother embrace or drive her out? _Guess I’ll find out soon enough_.

Kaeran almost regretted turning back to look at her mother. Almost. The flicker of hope she held dearly in her chest guttered at the sight of her mother’s mortified expression; Kaeran’s chest eased when she noticed the quick change in her mother’s face. _Creators, she’s just as nervous as I am_. She should’ve expected the hug but the actual feel of it anchored her to the spot. How she missed her mother’s hugs! And oh, oh no, she definitely wasn’t crying. She’d blame allergies even though not a single bloom could be found before she’d admit to being overwhelmed with emotions.

Once inside the house, it feels as though nothing had changed. Conversation between mother and daughter was at first strained, beginning with how are yous and comments about the unusual winter this past year. They’re _actually_ talking about the weather. It’s an odd choice to begin but Kaeran is far too relieved that she’s actually home again and talking to her mother that she’s willing to talk about every single mundane topic just to see her mother perk up, talking with her hands and actually chuckling at something funny her daughter remarked.

The kettle is screaming and it’s Ireth’s cue to get up and ready the teapot with herbs before settling it as well as two mugs between them. Ireth sits down, facing her daughter again, this time with her hands clasped; it’s a sign that she’s finished talking and it’s now Kaeran’s turn to talk about whatever is on her mind.

The words are still forming but something else is off. Her brows are furrowed and her heart stops for a second before resuming, albeit more to the rhythm of a hummingbird now.

“Where’s Asher?”

Ireth’s mouth opens to answer, but the front door slams open and a huffed _woof_ can be heard followed by someone else swearing.

“Language!” Ireth calls back. There’s a laugh, but Kaeran barely registers it because suddenly there’s an inquisitive mabari that’s all up in her business and being _very thorough_.

“Asher!” Kaeran pushes the mabari’s snout away from her crotch because _honestly_ , enough with the third degree. She makes the mistake to lean forward as Asher rises, front paws on her thighs and boop-able snout jabs her in the face.

“Owwww,” she rubs her nose. “Guess I deserve that, eh?” There’s tears in her eyes, both from the stinging pain that’s her face and from missing her goof mabari so much. She’s laughing and crying now, letting Asher lick her face, while she scratches behind his ears, his chin and making cooing sounds as he whines back in response. Kaeran wipes her face with one hand, not wanting to stop petting Asher. Creators forgive her if she did without him being satisfied of getting all the attention.

“ _Mamae_ , can I get a--oh!” Kaeran looks up from the hand that offers her a dampened facecloth. “ _Babae_ …”

Kaeran knew she eventually would have to speak with her father. She just didn’t anticipate it so soon. Feredir Lavellan was tall for an elf and he stood out not just in height but also for being brawny. Like most elves, Feredir aged well while also maintaining his body’s muscled physique; he had to stay in shape if he was to continue his work as a craftsman. She noticed he had grown his hair in the last year, honeyed ash pulled away from his face and into a hair bun of all things. That was unexpected.

“We have a lot to catch up on, _da’lan_.” He picked up an extra mug and reached for the jar of honey for himself before joining his wife and daughter at the table.

Asher, meanwhile, happily circled around the table before settling down underneath with his head nestled over his crossed paws, looking up adoringly at Kaeran. From Feredir’s side, he could feel the mabari’s tail tremor with contained excitement against his feet.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially had an extra scene to tie this up but I got caught up with the mabari and got a little emotional. It's alright though, that just means I'll have to insert it in the next chapter. How's my pacing? Am I overlooking something? Should I be more descriptive? All comments and feedback are appreciated. <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I was stuck a bit on this chapter and you wouldn't believe how exhausting it is to plan a tea party and move all your life into an apartment. I hope this was worth the wait. Thank you all for sticking around. :)

They talked for hours and well into the night. It was a cathartic experience and Kaeran wasn’t sure how she felt at the end of it. Part relieved, for sure that her parents didn’t turn her out but another part of her just wanted to smother the cries bubbling up within her with the pillow she was currently drenching with her tears. Small sobs came out, her shoulders shaking.

Creators, she was so exhausted.

She just wished that she could fall asleep. Unfortunately, her brain would rather replay bits and pieces of the conversation that took place in the kitchen.

_“Why aren’t you yelling at me!? You should be livid for what I’ve done and how I treated you both!” her voice had gone hoarse but she didn’t care, she took it as punishment. She had to explain herself, even if it didn’t perfectly excuse her actions, she owed her parents at least that._

_“’Ma’dharlin, you are being too hard on yourself,” her mother soothed._

_Kaeran hiccupped._

_“What else is bothering you?” her father knew her well. She wasn’t just upset over the lack of reaction, or rather the kind of response she was getting. With one hand still held by her mother, Kaeran motioned to her face with the other; she was so distraught that her hand shook which annoyed her further._

_She hated feeling so weak and vulnerable but they were her parents and they always stood by her. What if they didn’t anymore? What if this was the last straw?_

_“Your vallaslin?” Ireth said. She gave her daughter’s hand a gentle squeeze, it was meant to be comforting but Kaeran’s eyes continued to water. The excess wetness fell faster down her cheeks._

_It obviously weighed heavily on her mind, a recurring oppressive thought. What would they think? Would they feel embarrassed? Incensed? Just as quickly she felt shame, aching and deep. Mythal, what has she done?_

_Her tears slicked her face, soaking her cheeks and further irritating the blistered skin. A part of her wanted to stop the tears from causing more discomfort but another part felt that she deserved this brand of agony and didn’t deserve the reprieve._

_Kaeran was so lost in thought she didn’t realize that her mother left her seat. Small hands just like her own tilted her head back, thumbs tenderly brushing the wetness away from her face. She hiccupped again and kept her eyes shut (a stupid attempt in stopping more tears from coming) while her mother hushed her cries._

_She felt the thick and cool cream being smoothed over her cheekbones and temples; the first layer made her skin feel as though it was being suffocated but as a second layer was applied, she felt relief as the cream worked in numbing her sensitive skin._

_After a few moments, she tried to speak but a yawn came out instead. Embarrassed, she mumbled an apology. As if that was necessary. Despite her parents’ warmth and understanding, she couldn’t help but feel as though she needed to keep walking on eggshells._

_Weary to the marrow of her bones, Kaeran accepted her parents’ offer to stay for the night._

 

It felt like hours but it really took her all of five minutes to collect herself and drag her feet to her old bedroom. Talk about blast from the past. Had it only been two years since she moved out? Kaeran changed into an old pair of sweats and kept her tank top on before dramatically dropping onto the bed backwards (remembering at the last second the cream on her face and not wanting to get it all over the sheets).

Of course, now that she’s alone in her old bedroom, her mind reels back to the scene in the kitchen and sitting across from her parents. How could they be so forgiving, she wondered. The fact that they were so understanding and forgiving made her realize how fortunate she was to have them.

And yet, and yet…

Still the shame and self-loathing from earlier returns and burns brighter. This time she struggles to hold back the tears, not wanting to undo her mother’s work. Once again, she fails them and lies helplessly on the bed as fresh tears pour out harder, leaving scalding trails sideways, slashing across her temples and into her hair. No doubt if this keeps up, there would be wet spots on the pillow very soon.

Although her face heats up, the cream blessedly keeps her cheeks cool and numb. It’s a bleeding miracle and Kaeran only wants to weep harder. She doesn’t though because she isn’t a child and even though the prospect of crying herself to exhaustion sounds fantastic, there’s also a spark of stubbornness that flares up within her at the thought of allowing herself to wallow in such a petty fashion. How did she reach this point?

Oh, right. Some asshole broke her heart.

The door to her room opens gently and she freezes. Shit. Did her parents hear her? Instead of a knock or footsteps, she hears panting and the familiar sound of a tail swishing in the air. She eases her body, turning over to greet Asher with a small smile. She’s about to wipe the errant tears away when the mabari boops his nose into her face. Kaeran barely has time to duck away from the incoming tongue and slobber and instead uses her hands as a shield. Asher doesn’t seem to mind and continues to happily lick his mistress’ hands.

Hands wet, she groans in discomfort while wiping the excess on the sheets. Realizing what she’s done, she grimaces at the mess before chuckling to herself. She ruffled the top of his head for successfully cheering her up.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?”

He poked her face again, investigating for any more tears. Satisfied, Asher rested his head on the mattress, his tail swaying gently from side to side. 

“Oh no, no, no, no! Not that face!” she hissed.

The dumb oversized pup has the audacity to add a whimper. There’s even a twinkle in his adoring eyes. It’s so unfair and cruel of him to stoop this low.

“Ugh, alright fine! Come on, jump!”

She pats the mattress while he does a tiny one-two dance step with his front paws before leaping onto the bed and startling his mistress in the process. It doesn’t take him long to find the best spot and gingerly lie down without crushing Kaeran. Even though the invitation to sleep on the bed seemed to please the mabari, it clearly wasn’t enough and he needed the added comfort of resting his head on her hip. He huffs at her, as though silently scolding her for the long absence. She gives him an apologetic smile before resigning herself to scratching the back of his ears. Not that she minds, anyway, his ears are ridiculously soft and she loves it when he lifts his head in obvious rapture.

“ _Mamae_ spoiled you, didn’t she?”

-//-

Cullen’s friends are the worst.

On the one hand, they’re a Makersend and without them, he’d likely be a hermit but they can also be frustratingly relentless when it concerns gossip. 

“So, ah, couldn’t help but notice you took some time off for moving,” Rylen tries and fails to be casual. Although Raleigh is the most blunt out of the three, when Rylen has a bit of alcohol in his system he’s the least tactful of them.

After the so-called crisis at the museum, the trio went to a bar to celebrate the long weekend and the end of a frankly draining shift for Rylen and Raleigh.

“You hiding something from us, Cullen?” Raleigh chimes in even though he appears more focused on peeling off the label from his beer bottle in one piece.

“Or _someone_?” Rylen teases. Raleigh snickers at his friend’s lack of subtlety.

Cullen loves his friends but they have a terrible habit of picking the wrong time to ask such questions. If everything had gone smoothly at the café, Cullen would’ve mentioned Kaeran to his friends. Only in passing, of course.

Yet as things stand, he isn’t sure if it’s a good idea since who knows how things are between him and Kaeran. Would she back away from their original deal? Although he was pretty sure that that wouldn’t happen, Cullen was a cautious man and as a result, he always had a little room for doubt and worst case scenarios. If things did indeed turn for the worse and he’s unable to find a(n affordable) place, he always had family; though he did shudder at the thought of moving in Mia’s home and sleeping on the ratty couch in the basement.  

“You know, he has been in a bit of a hurry to leave lately,” Raleigh adds conspiratorially while still trying to peel off his beer label bit by bit without damage.

Cullen rolls his eyes.

“Oh please, you’re both ridiculous and clearly in need of hobbies if you’re so obsessed with my personal life. 

They both know Cullen isn’t one to really share. They’ve known him a long time and through the years his friends were able to piece together some semblance of who he is, his likes and dislikes. The past is fuzzy but it’s not entirely Cullen’s fault. He’s a private man but it’s rather hit or miss when asking about his childhood and growing up with three siblings. The subject of his parents is a whole other beast. Raleigh and Rylen steer clear of it since it’s obvious that Cullen is deeply affected by what happened.

Ah. What happened.

One particularly boring day, Raleigh did a bit of snooping (“It’s not snooping, just curious, Rylen! And don’t give me that look, it was eating you up too.”). He came across a newspaper clipping from twenty years back and though it didn’t state names, the timing was consistent with when Cullen’s past became patchy.

Raleigh isn’t sure if Cullen is faking his memory blanks to avoid talking about his parents or if he genuinely can’t recall that particular time in his life. For Cullen’s sake, he and Rylen avoid the topic.

“Alright,” Rylen has an infectious grin growing across his face “so what do you suggest we take up then rather than sniff aroun’ yer business?”

Cullen humors them by looking thoughtful for a moment.

“Have you tried one of those colouring books? Supposedly it’s very soothing.”

“Cullen, if Rylen had anymore zen in his system, the higher ups would think he was high on something.” 

“Aye,” the drunk Starkhavener nodded along.

“Alright, well I didn’t want to offend but my suggestion was meant more for you.”

“Me?” Raleigh blinks at him, somewhat ruffled.

“Yeah, Raleigh, you. Think you need something to destress you.”

“Or _someone_ ,” Rylen giggles. Cullen makes a note to order a pint of water for Rylen because honestly that was a bit of a low blow.

Raleigh crosses his arms across his chest, now more affronted by his friend’s comment.

“ _I_ need to destress. Me!? What about you?”

Rylen nods silently, nearly falls off his seat but recovers. _He’s so damn smooth_.

Seeing this development as the last straw, Cullen motions the bartender and mouths for water. The bartender glances at Rylen and laughs silently to herself, nodding in agreement. She gives Cullen a wink before turning around to grab a glass. The flirtation has Cullen clear his throat and rub the back of his neck.

That’s when Cullen’s phone pings, signalling a new text message. As the bartender turns around and offers the glass of water to Rylen (who gawks in response), Cullen reaches for his phone in the back pocket of his jeans only to grasp at nothing. Panic surges through him.

“And who is this mysterious Kaeran? She sounds sweet.”

He turns slowly, glaring at Raleigh who is going through his phone.

Raleigh looks up and gives his friend his most wicked grin.

“You got yourself a girl, Cullen? Does she have any single friends?”

“Raleigh, you’re a greedy bastard and you know Cullen wouldn’t let you alone in the same room as...what’s her name?” Rylen asks.

“Kaeran,” Cullen fills in, still eyeing Raleigh with a silent threat.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave ye alone with Kaeran or any of her friends.”

Raleigh feigns being wounded by the jab, his free hand splayed against his chest, a pout on his lips and his best attempt in making puppy eyes.

Cullen huffs at the sight.

“Alright, Raleigh, fun’s over. Give back my phone.”

Raleigh leans over to hand him the phone and Cullen reaches for it. At the last second, the phone is lobbed over him and Rylen catches it with glee.

His friends are not only the worst, they’re absolute traitors.

He whips his head at Rylen and receives a shrug.

“I expected better from you,” he admonishes.

“That’s yer mistake then. Hey! Why aren’t there any pictures of your hot girlfriend?”

“You’re just as bad as him, shame on you, Rylen.”

“Ye didn’t deny that you have a girlfriend.”

Cullen winces and throws himself against the wooden counter, groaning. What was she to him? Should he tell his friends about the arrangement he has or keep silent? He’s also dying to know what she texted.

That’s when his phone pings again. Another message.

“Don’t you dare read it!” He snatches the phone from Rylen’s hand.

“So let’s have it, why don’t you have any photos of her?” Raleigh asks.

“Unless he’s lying and it’s a ruse for him to hang out with better pals.” Rylen adds.

Raleigh snorts.

“Yeah, right! Cullen socializing and making new friends, that’s rich.”

He knows that without the handful of friends he’s got, he’d be the biggest recluse. And they know it too.

“Maybe I should find better friends. The two of you are a burden.”

“Aww...we’re your burden buddies,” Rylen coos. Raleigh chuckles as a still drunk Rylen leans over his seat to give Cullen a hug. He accepts the hug to humour his inebriated friend but struggles to remove him. Did he fall asleep on him?

“Face it, Cullen, you’re stuck with us. You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

That was true. He nods at Raleigh before patting Rylen on the shoulder.

“Rylen? Rylen, get off of me, you’re making me hot.”

“Jus’ admit I look good on ye,” the Starkhavener backs off, grinning, but still very much in his personal space.

Cullen huffs and shoves him back into his proper seat.

-//- 

It’s much, much later when Cullen returns to his apartment that he remembers Kaeran’s texts. He’s not that drunk per say, but the blinding light from his phone makes him wince and it takes him a minute to understand her message.

[22:37] _Hey, I’ve been thinking about you and how I left things. Can we meet up again?_

[22:39] _I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. I hope you say yes. Good night._

He doesn’t know how to respond and when he looks at the alarm clock on his nightstand he sees it’s close to two in the morning. He chews on his lip, debating on whether he should send her a text. Would she be asleep or also awake and waiting for his response. He carefully types his reply and satisfied that it’s free of errors, he taps the send button.

Cullen only bothers to remove his shoes before collapsing on his bed, drunk enough to not care about his clothes getting wrinkled or how uncomfortable he’ll feel come morning. All that matters is that there’s still a bit of hope and his body felt lighter than it ever did in years.

Unbeknownst to Cullen, Kaeran was still awake, struggling to find a comfortable position to sleep in. She paused when her phone vibrated. Was it him? She hesitated before reaching for her phone. Not like she could sleep anyway.

Kaeran felt embarrassingly excited to see that Cullen replied even though a part of her worried that maybe he texted to end things. Ha! End things. Funny, considering the nature of their arrangement. Getting dumped in a fake relationship, wouldn’t that be tragic?

She opened his message.

[02:07] _Nothing to forgive. Where did you want to meet?_

Letting out a sigh of relief, Kaeran texted back, hoping that she didn’t wake him. She could wait to reply in the morning but her fingers were way ahead of her.

  
Happy with her text, she tucked the phone into her pillow and cuddled with a snoring Asher. She contented with just petting the mabari, thinking that it would be a while before sleep took her. Little did she know that with her heart at ease, she fell asleep within minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen deals with a hangover and more nosey friends while Kaeran tries to go through the day without crying. She's semi successful and weeps on the inside over her bank account. 
> 
> Special appearances: Dorian and The Iron Bull
> 
> I also have to give props to Ireth. Mamae knows best.

Starting the long weekend with a hangover wasn’t the best decision, nor was it being woken by his phone ringing for the fifth time in a row _at seven in the Maker damn morning_. Cullen is startled awake, his brain not fully functioning at the moment, and finds himself still wearing his clothes from the night before, only more rumpled and sticking to his back.

He peels his shirt off and his skin exalting in the fact that it can breathe; he basks in the blissful sensation of pressing against cool sheets and blindly grabs the phone on its seventh cycle of chirping.

“Hello?” he mumbles while pressing the side of his face back against the pillow, eyebrows pinched. 

Cullen nearly throws the phone across the room, the voice on the other end startling him to near death. 

“Dorian, Do-riaaaan, pleeeaase! Not so loud, my head hurts.”

 _“Still in bed are we? Marvelous! Living the dream, you hear that,_ amatus _?”_ Cullen winces at the still loud and barbed tone coming from the other end of the line.

“Hey, hey, Dori, can you keep it down? I’ll listen to your spat just try to keep your voice down a few dozen notches? I’ve got the most wicked hangover.”

 _“You went out?! Without me!?”_ The Tevene exclaims and Cullen clutches his head, fearing that if his friend doesn’t shut up, he might get one of those dreadful migraines he has been so blessedly spared of late.

“Damn it, Dorian. What. Do. You. Want.”  

Apparently Dorian wasn’t too pleased about being dragged out of bed two hours prior to attend a hot yoga session with his boyfriend.

“ _And anyway, we’re on our way to your place. Are you decent?_ ”

“Dor, I’m in bed.”

“ _Marvelous, just as I’ve always imagined_.” 

“Ha-fuckin’-ha, Dor.”

“ _Ever told you how much I hate it when you call me that? Dor! Dor! Hold the door, Dor!_ ”

“I only ever call you that when you annoy me.”

“ _Do I annoy you so?_ _Me?_ ”

“On a near constant basis.”

“ _Ha, ha. The Ferelden is being cheeky for once, how adorable._ ”

“Why are you and Bull coming over anyway? Are the renovations at your place done yet?”

“ _We’re not discussing that, I’m furious with our contractor. He’s the absolute worst._ ”

Sighing, Cullen gingerly rolled out of bed. His body creaked from disuse while his head continued to throb. Definitely not a good start.

“Alright, how much time do I have before you two get here?”

-//-

Despite not having slept well, Kaeran made peace with the fact that she at least had some sleep. She greeted the morning with a small smile even though her eyes were swollen and her head throbbed. It was the kind of headache that came after a good cry and now, feeling unburdened of some of her fears, she welcomed the day with renewed determination.

A knock at the door snapped her attention and she immediately regretted the quick turn of her head. Kaeran tried to keep her head steady, waiting for the spinning to stop.

“Kaeran?” Her mother’s muffled voice called.

“Morning,” she replied.

“Everything alright?”

“I’m fine, just have a slight headache.”

“I have some tea ready but don’t take too long. We’ve got a lot of things to do.”

Kaeran got up from the bed and made her way to the door, opening it with a frown on her face.

“What things? It’s a Saturday and a holiday, what has to be done anyway?”

Her mother patted her face gently, smiling. Kaeran ignored the odd buzzing under her skin from the contact. Weird.

“True, but it’s a Ferelden holiday and we Dalish still work through them. 

Kaeran groaned. Of course her mother would immediately want to run errands. Although her father was lax, her mother couldn’t stay idle, always in need of something to do. Kaeran swears it’s her mother’s fault for why she too can’t stay still. She always busies herself with tinkering this and that.

“So what are we doing?”

“We’re going shopping for your new place!” Her mother actually beamed. Oh Creators, she probably already made a list of things to buy. Possibly sorted by room, too.

“Mamae…”

“Don’t ‘Mamae’ me. Now wash your face, get dressed and come get something to eat.” 

“Yes, mamae.”

She instantly feels like she’s eight again. It’s not all bad but she’s old enough that it’s a bit embarrassing. There was no point in arguing with her and if the way to mend their relationship was by shopping for things for the apartment, how was Kaeran to say no? Besides, she really needed to shop for the apartment and it would be nice to have her clothes and the few belongings she packed in a more homey setting rather than stashed in her duffle bag.

She walked into the bathroom and took a deep breath, bracing herself for the result of last night’s cryfest. As she exhaled, her breath came out shaky when she finally got a good look of her reflection. Kaeran nearly didn’t recognize herself, not because she looked horrible (she’s seen worse, if she was perfectly honest) but for the opposite for the opposite reason. Yes, her eyes were puffy and slightly bloodshot but the skin across her cheekbones and under her eyes looked better than they’ve been in months. Her face felt taut from where her tears dried but the inflamed skin was lighter rather than the angry, red and mottled nightmare she’s used to seeing. No wonder her mother seemed pleased with herself, the balm seemed to be working.

Not wanting to keep her mother waiting, she turned the tap on to start her routine.

Although, admittedly, there was one step she was more than happy to skip.

-//-

Cullen was starting to question the wisdom in accepting the offer of free breakfast at his friends’ place. Bull was trying to convince Dorian about the perks of hot yoga despite the fact that the classes were at an absurd hour of the day. Who in the Void agrees that hot yoga at six in the morning is a fine idea?

“Yes, but kadan, consider how _flexible_ you’ll be.”

Cullen is really, really beginning to regret his decision. He also includes the regret of having drunk too much last night.

“You don’t seem to have a problem bending me every which way. What’s wrong? Losing your touch?” Dorian shoots back testily as he rockets past a yellow light.

“Can…can we discuss something else? Anything else,” Cullen interjects. He hopes it didn’t sound like a whine but at this point he doesn’t care. He just wants his life to end.

No one should be in this much misery.

“Fine. How are things with you and Kaeran?”

Cullen can see Bull trying to hide his smirk. The asshole.

He spreads himself across the backseat of Dorian’s car, wishing, begging for mercy.

“On second thought, go back to your thinly veiled activities in the bedroom,” he grumbles.

“Ah, ah!” Bull cuts in, “not always in the bedroom. Got to expand your imagination a bit, Cullen, especially if you want to hit that cute elf.” 

Dorian smacks Bull on the arm because they’ve finally arrived at their place. Also because he can’t quite reach his lover’s head, so smacking one of his muscled arms is the next best thing. As soon as he cuts the ignition, everyone gets out of the car—Cullen reluctantly half crawls half slithers out and spills onto the sidewalk. Dorian pays no mind.

“That’s my friend you’re talking about.” He jabs at his fiancé accusingly.

“Alright, alright,” he soothes the Tevinter before helping Cullen onto his feet, “but seriously Cullen, she’s hot.”

If Dorian’s eye twitching is anything to go by, Bull’s amused smile wavers, getting the hint and finally dropping it. He decides to play nice and change subject.

“So…breakfast?” 

-//-

Bull isn’t anywhere close to making it up to Dorian, so he throws himself into prepping and making the breakfast extra greasy. Him and Dorian like to eat healthy but what’s the point of living if you can’t indulge a little in something sinful every so often? He pours the excess bacon grease into a mug, saving it for the fried beans and hash browns. He’s also thinking of how he can make it up to his fiancé once they have Cullen taken care of and out the door.

He glances at Dorian who is busying with setting the table and tending to their hungover guest.

Dorian gently places a tall glass of water in front of Cullen, mindful of his sad state. He waits for him to finish the glass before refilling it.

“So, heard anything from Kaeran?” Dorian’s voice is too casual and Cullen isn’t buying it.

“Yeah, how are things with you and your aesthetically pleasing roommate?” Bull chimes in. 

“You are insufferable, there’s no means to live with you and maintain one’s sanity. I hate you. Utterly, truly hate you.”

“Aww,” Bull leaves his post from the stove to hug his fiancé from behind, planting several wet and loud kisses along his face, “remind me to give you a good lashing for that later, you know how riled up I get when you say such things.”

Cullen was blessedly distracted from this exchange, curious about who was texting him so early.

[09:07] _Sushi later?_

Cullen blinks and his brain still out of commission, he stupidly replies:

[09:07] **What?**

It feels like another age has gone by but his phone vibrates again.

[09:08] _I was thinking that for later we could grab sushi. You know, raw fish on rice. Sounds Orlesian but actually Eastern Free March thing._

Cullen is about to respond when he gets another incoming text. Kaeran is undoubtedly part of the generation that grew up along with modern technology and has a better knack than Cullen who takes nearly a minute to text back a sentence. How embarrassing.

[09:10] _you’re so adorably Ferelden, you totally thought I would drag you someplace Orlesian._

He snorts. 

[09:10] **I didn’t.**  

[09:10] _Admit it, you broke into hives just thinking of touching Orlesian food._

[09:11] **You’re being ridiculous.**  

[09:11] _So is that a yes to sushi?_  

He’s about to text back when he feels suddenly crowded. Dorian and Bull are hovering behind, exchanging conspiring glances. Apparently while Cullen was distracted, the pair made a temporary truce in order to band together and potentially tease their friend until he was a bumbling mess. 

“So…things are good?” Dorian asks even though he knows the answer. He does have eyes.

“Uh huh,” Cullen quickly taps a response and hits the send button.

When he looks at Dorian, he sees the Tevinter’s left eye twitch.

“Breakfast is ready, but after that you’re to tell me everything.”

Bull hands Cullen his plate brimming with delicious food, including a three pepper, onion and mushroom omelette, golden hash browns pilled with still sizzling bacon and a side of beans. They share a look: Cullen, grateful, and Bull warning him that he’ll have to eventually indulge them with the progress of his fake relationship.

-//-

She didn’t think it was possible to cry over curtains and a duvet cover. And yet, she’s fighting back tears and trying to cool her heated face. The saleswoman continues to roll out each fabric, measuring and calculating the price for each one. It’s painful to watch. Who would’ve thought that fabric could be so expensive? Kaeran didn’t factor that in when she was browsing the aisles, looking for interesting patterns to catch her eye. It took her an hour to find the same shade of emerald so that the curtains matched the cover. Every time the saleswoman added another line to the order, Kaeran waffled between giving in and surrendering her credit card.

“Ma’dharlin, everything alright? You’re so red!” Ireth placed a cold hand on her daughter’s cheek, trying to soothe her. 

“It’s just…I didn’t think that it could be so expensive,” Kaeran mumbles.

She feels like a petulant child and hates it but not as much as money. Which she absolutely hates and wishes that to live decently didn’t equate with sinking her funds over something like curtains and a bloody cover for a duvet she has yet to buy. She almost hates the fact that her heart is set on the intricate design. At least the curtains were half off. A small consolation, really. 

“If it’s money you’re worried about,” Ireth starts.

“No mamae, it’s fine. I have the money.” Kaeran insists.

The last thing she needs is to beg her parents for money. She does have a bit of it saved up but she estimates that if these kinds of expenses continue, she’ll need a job very soon in order to stay afloat and still have enough to pay for groceries and at least three months worth of rent.

She really, really hates money, more than ever before.

The saleswoman folds the assortment of fabrics into a neat pile, satisfied with her work and the choices made by her patron. Kaeran scoops up the pile and takes the receipt, trying to ignore the total that is underlined twice. 

She dreads the rest of the day, imagining the upcoming expenses like a military officer waiting for the butcher’s bill.

-//-

For the life of him Cullen couldn’t figure out what he was feeling; Bull’s concoction obliterated his hangover, yet he felt that he was caught between feeling light and giddy like a cloud made of cotton candy and the next instance, tightly wound up with his heart hammering a frantic beat. Was he dying? Maker, why did he goad Bull to do his worst and experiment on him like some lab rat? It felt like his heart was ready to give out at any moment. 

And then it really felt like his heart had stopped when he stepped into his new apartment and found a familiar looking woman. He was so startled he nearly dropped his keys. The woman didn’t seem to be bothered by his entrance and she looked him over pensively before a fond smile burst on her face. It was the tender look a mother gave her child and the absence of such a loving expression made Cullen feel cold all over. Maker, would he ever get over such a loss?

He didn’t quite know what to say. Would it be rude to ask who she was? It was a valid question, after all. Fortunately, Cullen was spared from doing so.

“Mamae?” Kaeran came around the corner, wiping her hands on her worn overalls. She stopped when she saw Cullen standing, looking awestruck. Shit. She never got around to explaining to her parents who she was moving in with.

Cullen does a double take, glancing between Kaeran and the woman when the puzzle pieces finally snap into place. Of course she looked so familiar, Kaeran had her eyes and some of her rounded and soft features. Kaeran tried to keep her face from flushing under his intense gaze. Clearing her throat, she motioned to her mother.

“Cullen, this is…”

“Your mother,” he quickly recovered and approached her, “so wonderful to meet you,” he hunched over, shaking her offered hand and noticing how small her hand was in his firm grip. He hoped he didn’t crush her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Cullen, you may call me Ireth,” she patted his face gently before giving him a playful wink. Cullen nearly spluttered and did a terrible job of not blushing.

“Mamae…” Kaeran sighed. She really felt for the poor guy. Still, as far as first impressions go, she could tell that he immediately passed the test. Not that he needed to since they weren’t dating or anything, but it was nice to see company that her mother approved of.

Ireth watched Cullen and her daughter, smiling to herself. She pretended that she was far more interested in the contents of her purse, fishing out her car keys. 

“Well, I can tell when it’s time to leave. You’ve found yourself a lovely new place, ma’dharlin. It’ll feel like home before you know it.” As she embraced her daughter, she felt Kaeran hold onto her tightly, silently begging her not to leave.

Gently disentangling herself, she whispered soothing words into Kaeran’s ear before kissing her cheek. Her daughter grasped at her hand and she chuckled, rubbing the back of her hand with her thumb. Kaeran seemed to have steeled herself and Ireth couldn’t feel prouder. It was hard to let her daughter go once again, but she somehow knew that this time she had a better chance of happiness.

She just hoped that her daughter knew the steps she needed to take.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mamae knows what's up ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kaeran and Cullen have a lunch date and they have their first set of (unexpected) visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the result of having a rough outline and you start merrily typing away only to remember that you already had dialogue written down somewhere. Good luck inserting those into the narrative and have them make sense. Poor Cullen and Kaeran...it's a good thing their lunch is already cold, they won't be able to eat until the next chapter. XD

After the stop at the fabric store, the grand tour of wrecking Kaeran’s savings continued as they drove to Samna, the mecca of build-yourself Dalish furnishings. The parking lot was packed with cars and people exiting the store with carts full of purchases. It was still relatively early for morning shopping yet people still flocked to Samna since it was one of the few stores open during the holiday weekend. Kaeran felt a bit guilty being there but she was in dire need of furniture, most notably a bed and dresser for her clothes. Her room in the apartment was the guest room and though smaller than Cullen’s, it had a closet that was just outside her door so whatever few items needed to be hung could be stored there. Cullen insisted that she ought to take the larger bedroom but it didn’t make sense since she barely had much to begin with and it was questionable whether his bulky Ferelden bedframe would leave enough room to maneuver in the smaller room. Besides, he found the apartment and was in need of a roommate slash fake girlfriend, so it was logical that he would have the lion’s share of the place.

“Are you sure you don’t want your old bed?” her mother asked.

“So eager to convert my old room into something more useful? Maybe another reading room or someplace to finally store all those balls of yarn you insist on collecting?”

Ireth smacked her daughter’s arm. Kaeran pressed a hand to her so-called injury and exaggerated the pained look on her face. Her mother chuckled while Kaeran grinned back.

“Hey, did you ever get the chance to finish that project of yours?”

“Which one?”

“How about any of them?”

The expression on Ireth’s face grew serious. Oops. Misfire, misfire.

“You keep acting smart and I make you walk home.”

Kaeran mumbled an apology, following her mother closely as they entered the nightmarish abyss that was Samna.

Three hours later after much deliberation and more of Kaeran cringing at the growing number of items in her cart, they walked out of the store with their purchases. Kaeran wasn’t sure whether they would be able to fit everything in her mother’s car. It was a good thing that most of the stuff needed to be assembled and were conveniently packaged in compact cardboard boxes. Despite the trouble of shopping for new furniture and the dreadful prospect of having to assemble everything, Kaeran found herself enjoying the process thanks to the company. She was reminded once again how she fortunate she was to have her parents in her life. Sure, Rhona would’ve probably helped but she would be cursing the whole time. Besides, there was some added assurance with this new move in her life, as though she was moving forward and with the blessing of her parents. Her mind threatened to go back to when she left them in dramatic fashion a year and a half ago. As though sensing her train of thought, her mother interrupted.

“Want to grab a coffee before you show me your new place?”

If Kaeran hadn’t already buckled in her seatbelt, she would’ve fiercely hugged her mother. Ireth smiled brightly, shaking her head before pulling out of the parking lot.

“Alright, my treat.”

-//-

For a moment, Kaeran worried that her mother would find a flaw or disapprove of the new place. If she was honest, her and Cullen snatching the place for themselves was quick and they probably should’ve thought it through. Yet, the place was newly renovated, the owners of the building were a lovely couple and the rent was within their budget, so really, everything should be fine. As soon as they entered the apartment with all of the Samna boxes in tow, Ireth patiently waited for her daughter to give her the tour. She nodded along to Kaeran’s chat about where things would go, offered some advice and then it was straight to work.

They managed to assemble the bedframe with relative ease (at this point, both mother and daughter were experts in assembling Samna furniture) and indulged on cardamom buns with tea. Kaeran walked into her bedroom momentarily when Cullen happened to enter the apartment. Glancing at her phone for the time, she realized that it was later in the day than she hoped. Bracing herself, she walked out into the hallway, calling for her mother. When she saw Cullen, he looked at Ireth, assessing her as though he’d seen her before and couldn’t quite place from where.

“Cullen,” she greeted, “this is—”

“Your mother,” he finished. Remembering himself, he approached the older woman. “So wonderful to meet you,” he added.

Kaeran nearly snorted at how delicately Cullen took her mother’s hand, as though the woman was a brittle flower. She could tell that her mother was charmed and shook her head when Ireth winked at Cullen.

After the brief introduction and her mother’s departure, Kaeran was a bit at a loss of how to proceed. As much as she wanted her mother out the door, the sudden absence nearly overwhelmed her. She was making a bigger deal out of this than she should. And honestly, despite only coming to know Cullen in such a short time, Kaeran knew she could trust him and that he was of no threat to her.

And yet, it still felt strange somehow. This was the first time that she was alone with Cullen in their apartment and even though they met up for coffee a few times to get to know each other, this time it felt more intimate. Kaeran was not claustrophobic, but it suddenly felt like the walls were closing in around them. Hands in the pockets of her overalls, she cleared her throat, trying and failing to think of what to say. As though on cue, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, equally embarrassed. Seeing how she wasn’t the only one gave her some comfort.

Cullen noticed the stack of Samna boxes to one side and grabbing it like a lifeline, pointed to them. “Did a bit of shopping?”

Kaeran glanced over, as if she had completely forgotten about her morning purchases.

“Oh! Yeah, just a few essentials,” she winced.

Cullen laughed. “If it’s any consolation, it’s near impossible to walk into that place and not walk out with a few extra things. I can’t seem to leave that place without buying a box of those cardamom buns.”

“Alright, don’t laugh but there’s a box of those in the fridge. Please help yourself to some before I eat them all myself and later regret it.”

“Have you ever--?”

She gave him a serious look and Cullen didn’t bother to finish that question, only nodded.

“Looking forward to tomorrow’s breakfast then,” he said.

She gave him a puzzled look.

“Right, I forgot to tell you, I’m mostly moved in. I have a few things left over at the other place.”

He goes to open his bedroom door and Kaeran follows closely behind. The room is easily double the size of her own and spartan; in the middle of the room sits the hulking Ferelden styled bed, its covers and sheets still folded in a pile with a simple dresser on one side, a workstation in a corner and a small mirror sitting on the floor, waiting to be hung. Kaeran lets out a whistle. “So, how much more of your stuff?”

Cullen crosses his arms, unamused. Kaeran cleared her throat and was retreating back to her bedroom to grab her purse.

“You know what, how about lunch?”

-//-

While Kaeran stepped out to get sushi, Cullen decided to put more of his things in order. He tried not to think too much about Kaeran’s comment. Did she think he was boring? Maybe she pitied him and suddenly the thought itself was unbearable and he couldn’t understand why. He didn’t want her pity, didn’t believe that his life was pitiful. While battling with his thoughts, he wrestles with a shirt, trying and failing to fold it like a normal person would be able to. He balls up the offending garment and tosses it into the drawer, slamming it shut. Cullen decides instead to contend with making the bed, as if that task would be any easier with the fitted sheet. At least it will keep his mind off what Kaeran may think of him and about the battered box that contains his oldest memories.

Well, the ones that he remembers best, anyway.

The rest are spotty and if he thinks too hard he’s likely to get a killer headache. One day, Cullen swears to open that box and no matter how much the past hurts, he’ll cradle it tenderly and move onwards.

Rather than dwell too long, he lets his mind go blank, focusing on the dull task of covering the mattress with the fitted sheet. It’s slow going but a balm on his nerves and despite the awkwardness each time, Cullen feels normal again. The miracle of performing the mundane already has his shoulders loose and the rest of his body lax. He drops one end of the mattress a few times, stumbling with getting a good grip and moves to the other side. The mattress finally covered, Cullen reaches for the folded bed sheet when he hears more than one set of feet climbing the stairs. He thinks it’s the neighbors that live above but their steps end too soon.

Cullen stands still, holding the folded sheet in his hands and not daring to let it drop. As if the people outside would hear him. The doorbell rings and there’s a small chuckle followed by shushing. As he makes his way into the hallway and towards the front door, he shakes his head; so much for peace under this roof. He opens the first door, barely stepping into the vestibule to open the next door and he can see his two sisters happily waving at him. He lets out a sharp bark of a laugh when he sees his niece and two nephews, the older two ecstatic to see their uncle. The littlest was barely a year old and napping happily against his mother.

With little choice, Cullen opens the door and welcomes the chaos.

“Uncle Cull!”  
“Uncle Cullen!”

Both Moira and Owen launch themselves and hug his legs while he hunches over to greet them.

“Hey, you two! I wasn’t expecting guests so soon.”

“Oh?” Mia chimes in innocently, “I could’ve sworn that I called you earlier to tell you.”

Cullen looks up at his sister, unconvinced. “You must’ve forgotten. It happens with old age.”

He’s suddenly thankful that he has his niece and nephew to protect him otherwise Mia would’ve been inclined to slap him upside the head. She wouldn’t dare such violence in front of her children.

Mia shoots him an icy glare. “Guess you’ll know soon enough, brother.”

He winced at that, knowing it was a sensitive subject. Mia was officially a year older than their parents at the time of their passing. Being the second child in the family and knowing how precious life was, Cullen often wondered if he was doing the right thing or wasting his time. Even though he tried dating, none of his previous partners stood out and the thought of jumping the gun and settling down didn’t sit right with him. He’d thought about marrying and starting a family but he always felt that it had to be with the right person and if he had to wait for them to come along, then so be it. Life was too short for compromises.

“Now, now, Mia, don’t give Cullen any reason to kick us out so quickly,” Rosalie was the last to walk in, wiping the soles of her shoes against the mat before joining her siblings.

“I thought that was why we brought the children along,” Mia joked.

As if on cue, Moira and Owen dispersed, wishing to explore their uncle’s new home and leaving Cullen suddenly and blessedly unencumbered.

“Where’s Bran?” Cullen asked.

“Out with a cold,” Rosalie replied, “and being a huge baby about it.”

“That’s a shame, hope he feels better soon,” he leans to the side, wanting to get a closer look of Rosalie’s child who was safely wrapped against her chest. Her pregnancy was particularly difficult and left Rosalie bedridden for a month after delivering a healthy baby boy. It took time for her to fully recover and each sibling chipped in any way they could to help while she convalesced.

“So, when do we get to meet your—”

The front door opens, the cool afternoon breeze momentarily chilling the place and even Rosalie’s baby scrunches up his face at the discomfort before nestling further in the protective wrap. Unaware of the added company, Kaeran calls out her arrival and it isn’t until she’s out of the vestibule and in the hallway entrance that she sees the unexpected company.

“Hey Cullen, I’m back—oh,” Kaeran stops in her tracks, feeling out of sorts and her cheeks now burn from embarrassment rather than the chilly outdoors. It doesn’t take her long to figure out who they are and she’s trying to tame her hair with the one free hand she has. Cullen comes forward, relieving her of the takeout bag full of sushi. Kaeran gives him a small warm smile before looking at Mia, Rosalie and the baby. Cullen keeps looking at her and she has to look back at him and then his siblings before taking the first step towards them.

“Hi,” her voice is suddenly softer, brimming with shyness. “I’m Kaeran, Cullen’s—”

“Girlfriend,” Rosalie supplies. Kaeran blinks at the forwardness (not that she would correct them) and shakes her hand. “I’m Rosalie, and this is my sister Mia, she’s the eldest.”

Kaeran shakes Mia’s hand as well, nodding. “So nice to meet you all.”

Cullen clears his throat. A splash of rose across his cheeks which Kaeran finds terribly endearing. “Funny you should say that…”

Kaeran barely has time to look back when she’s hit with two solid but small bodies on both sides. For a moment, she can’t breathe. The wind entirely knocked out of her. Her reaction is to laugh as she looks down at the two positively ninja niece and nephew.

“Hello, and who are these two adorable munchkins?”

“Don’t be fooled by their innocent looks,” Cullen warns, “it’s how they get you to do absolutely anything for them.”

“As their uncle, you should be doing anything for them,” Kaeran replies.

Cullen’s response is lost as Moira and Owen throw a barrage of questions at Kaeran.

“What’s your name?”

“Are you an elf?”

“Obviously, but she’s clearly Dalish,” Moira adds matter-of-factly. Kaeran lifts an eyebrow, unsurprised that the niece is at that stage where everything is obvious and has zero tolerance for inane questions.

“Are you Uncle Cullen’s girlfriend?” Owen asks, ignoring his annoying sister’s comment. Moira flusters.

“Of course she is, why do you think they moved in together?”

Owen shrugs. “Dunno, maybe they’re just really good friends?”

  
The niece and nephew wait for her response, suddenly aware that maybe they were misinformed. Kaeran glances at Cullen who appears to be very interested in the ornate mouldings along the doorway. How convenient. When she looks back at the children, she’s struck by how similar they are and with the exception of Moira’s taller height and golden hair to Owen clearly being younger with hair tinged red, they could be mistaken as twins.

“I’m Kaeran, yes I’m Dalish and um, your uncle’s girlfriend,” she rushes out the last bit. “What’s your name?”

Moira stands as tall as a nine year old could, suddenly serious. She extends her hand to Kaeran, “I’m Moira and this is my younger brother, Owen.” Moira nudges Owen who meekly stretches his hand out for Kaeran to shake. Thinking that the ordeal was over, Owen blurts out another question.

“Are you going to be our auntie?” Rosalie and Mia try to not laugh while Cullen mumbles under his breath. Kaeran’s ears twitch in response. They hadn’t talked about how they’d interact let alone introduce each other to family. Kaeran wishes that they had this conversation sooner. It suddenly feels as though she’s playing Minesweeper and any misstep could be catastrophic.

“Um, well. If it’s a bit weird you can call me by my name.” Both children glance at the other, and Kaeran swears that maybe they’re silently communicating as they simultaneously nod before looking back at her. She tries not to think how slightly creepy that exchange was.

“You’re not being touchy, did you and uncle Cull have a fight?” Owen asked, staring at his uncle and back at Kaeran.

“Don’t be stupid, Owen.”

“Moira, what did I tell you about calling your brother stupid?”

Moira deflates, giving her brother an apologetic look.

“Anyway, if they did fight, they can just kiss and make up.” Cullen’s niece nods matter-of-factly. Kaeran is fighting a grin and she swears she heard Cullen mutter under his breath.

“But not too many kisses!” Owen protests. “That’s how you get a baby and a crib.”

Wait. What?

“Owen, that doesn’t make any sense,” Cullen cuts in. Kaeran noticed how Rosalie and Mia were awfully quiet. The two were smirking at this new development.

“I think it’s a bird, a really big one that carries the baby,” Moira teases.

“Then how does the crib get there?” Owen asks, totally clueless that his older sister is pulling his leg and hanging on to her every word.

Cullen gives his niece a warning look. Poor Owen, bless him for his innocence. Cullen pities the gullibility of his nephew. Moira shifts to one side, staring at her nails and looking very pleased with herself.

“Obviously the bird makes it from scratch,” Moira then jumps onto her brother, crooking her fingers and voice suddenly ominous. “With its sharp talons!”

“Moira!” All the adults save for Kaeran admonish the little girl shaking the suddenly pale Owen.

“Excuse my niece, Kaeran, she has a very vivid imagination and doesn’t know when to draw the line.” Mia soothes Owen who decided to stick by his mother’s side and away from his cruel sister.

“Moira, just because you know where babies come from doesn’t mean you have to torment your little brother for not knowing.”

“Yes, Auntie Rosalie.”

“Sorry about all of this, you never know what to expect with these two,” Mia addresses Kaeran. “Thought I’d be ready for my own kids after practically raising Cullen, Bran and Ros.” She looks embarrassed but nowhere near as embarrassed as her brother.

Kaeran opens her mouth, curious about this new bit of revelation. It feels weird to ask about such an intimate detail, especially after only just meeting most of Cullen’s family. Perhaps she can ask Cullen when they have time for themselves. Oh, right, their sushi date.

“Nothing to worry about,” she replies. “I always wondered what it was like to have siblings. It seems wonderful.”

“Oh, you’re an only child?”

“Trust me, you’re lucky. Growing up with my sisters and Bran was a bit overwhelming.” Cullen snarks.

“Only because you’d run off to be alone. Loner.” Rosalie points at her brother accusingly.

“Is that true?” Kaeran asks.

“Mama says that even when they were younger that Uncle Cullen was stubborn and pretending that he didn’t need love and affection,” Moira chimes in. The girl pointedly looks away from her mother’s reproving stare. Cullen’s mouth is hanging, clearly unable to formulate a sentence let alone a word or two.

“I’m sure he’s not that stubborn,” Kaeran tries to amend. Moira looks at her as though she’s grown a second head.

“Then you don’t know my uncle that well, or at least haven’t been together that long.” Kaeran wants to laugh off the girl’s retort but it’s a bit on the nose and she’s not sure which course of action to take.

“I mean, you two being together must be new. Even when you came in, you two didn’t kiss.” Kaeran flushes at that. They…hadn’t really thought it through. She didn’t dare glance in his direction for fear of confirming how new this supposed relationship was.

“Moira, that’s enough,” Mia scolded.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Kaeran assures. “You are right, Moira. We are fairly new at this, it’s a work in progress but we care about each other very much and I think that counts for something, right?” Happy to not be scolded by another adult, Moira nods her head, satisfied that at least someone took her seriously.

“Plus we didn’t want to gross you out with kisses…kisses are still gross to you, right?”

Moira scrunches up her face at that. “So gross, but Mama says Uncle Cullen needs lots of hugs and kisses because he’s lonely.”

Cullen whips his head around to shout indignantly at his sister.

“MIA?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think the name of the furniture store was brilliant, this is where I remind you that I'm a fraud because I typed "build" in an elven word generator and got "samna". 
> 
> I also know nothing about how children speak, lets just say that Moira is pretty smart, she obviously gets it somewhere. Owen is, well, I hate to say it...preciously dense. He's five, give him a break.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say that Cullen and Kaeran were going to finally eat their lunch? Sadly, not this chapter either. Those cardamom buns, though delicious, can only fill a stomach for so long...

Cullen just wants to die.

Or perhaps this was all a terrible dream: the perfect apartment didn’t exist, Kaeran was someone he imagined and he still lived in his horrible apartment that was falling apart.

Cullen mentally shakes his head; there’s no way that his mind could conjure someone like Kaeran. She seems too good to play the part of his girlfriend. He’d be lucky to find someone like her to spend the rest of his life with.

He wonders if he would be able to throw his family out after barely five minutes of excruciating questions about kisses and babies. He’s loath to make his niece and nephews cry, especially the younger one but the questioning had gone longer than he expected.

Maker, Mia barely had to say anything, content instead to let her children play twenty questions and make his heart race with panic.

He resigns to the fact that he loves his family too much to do such a thing. Plus his niece and nephews were experts with the wounded puppy eyes. He narrows his eyes at them. They were too bloody clever for such a young age. If they kept this up who knows how they would be once older.

Cullen smirks at the thought of his poor sister bemoaning of premature grey hairs.

Let it happen, he thinks darkly.

“Hey Cullen, might want to ease up on the sinister smirk? You’re terrifying the little ones,” Kaeran joked.

He sighs, now firmly back to the present. Hopefully Kaeran wasn’t too scarred by the direction the conversation went.

His sisters insisted that they wouldn’t stay long yet somehow Kaeran convinced them to stick around for tea. Judging by the surprised exchange between his sisters, they didn’t expect the extended hospitality, not so soon after barging in the way they did. Or perhaps it was the offer of tea that threw them off; Cullen never had tea at his old apartment. Mia teased him for always having the tin of hot cocoa fully stocked.

Kaeran had no idea that she earned high praises from his sisters for that simple gesture.

“We really don’t want to be a bother,” Mia insisted. She glanced at Cullen, suddenly worried that the surprise visit was ill advised and that perhaps they were overstepping.

“Nonsense, Cullen always talks about you all so much. It’s the perfect time too, just before we’re elbows deep in boxes,” Kaeran replied while searching around the kitchen, wincing at how bare it looked. “Too bad your brother Branson couldn’t make it.”

She made a cursory attempt in familiarizing herself with how Cullen set his kitchenware, whatever there was of it; it wasn’t bad but some adjustments could be made in efficiently organizing some of the more finicky household items.

“Honestly, it’s probably a good thing Bran couldn’t be here, there’s no more room to sit,” said Rosalie.

“I do have fold-out chairs, you know,” Cullen replied defensively.

“I’m honestly surprised that most of the furniture survived your last two addresses,” Mia said while running her fingers over the table they sat around. She kept staring at the surface; her eyes nostalgic, her thoughts miles and miles away, thinking fondly of the past and the good memories nestled there in the grain of the wood.

The table was a decent size and custom-made, possibly by someone who knew the Rutherfords well enough that the extra space was needed to seat a large family; though not ancient, the white oak table was old enough that it proudly displayed all the nicks and imperfections that came with raising four children. Kaeran even spotted a few crayon marks that were carefully preserved with a coat of varnish. She also noticed one of the legs was refitted with half of it made from another block of wood and stained to closely match the rest. The rustic furniture felt sacred somehow and not wanting to accidentally do something heathenish, Kaeran pulled out coasters for the scalding mugs. She even dug out the box of cardamom buns from the fridge as a tempting snack.

Moira gleefully grabbed one before conceding to sharing half with her brother. Mia declined and Rosalie hesitated. “Want to go halfsies?” Kaeran asked.

“No, really, it’s alright,” Rosalie protested gently while making a poor effort in looking away.

“Alright,” Kaeran said, grabbing an entire bun and cutting it in half before sliding the piece over with a napkin.

Cullen noticed Rosalie’s smirk before accepting the spiced pastry.

Oh no, he thought. 

He could see the two of them becoming fast friends and quite possibly accomplices in teasing him endlessly. He resigned himself to that fate; after all, there are worse fates and Cullen thought that the worst of all would be a life unlived and lonely. Despite the lack of a love life, he had family, friends, his health and a job—not one he imagined, but it sufficed him for now—so all things considered, at this precise moment he found himself content.

The kitchen was quiet as everyone indulged in the tea and snack; it felt like a victory and that nothing could go wrong. It was at this point that Mia took the opportunity to ask the sensible yet terrifying question, “So how did you two meet?”

-//-

Slowly and with great restraint, Kaeran and Cullen looked at each other, both unsure how to describe their first encounter other than _we just met a few weeks ago and thought it would be a lark to pose as a couple to get this apartment_.

“We met some time ago, at Dorian and Bull’s engagement party.”

Thank the gods that Cullen came up with that answer because she certainly wasn’t going to come up with something as plausible as that. It was brilliant actually, considering that Dorian was a common friend.

Yet there was something else that troubled her about this new bit of information. If he was present at the engagement party then they must’ve… 

Kaeran nearly choked on her bite of the pastry as it dawned on her.

Mythal no, he couldn’t have…

Have they met before?

-//-

Cullen carefully stirs the spoon, swirling the contents in his mug. It’s a distraction from his older sister’s exacting gaze while he thinks what to say next. He decides to go with the believable and finds inspiration from a more recent memory and hopes Kaeran will forgive him. He doesn’t notice how awfully still she is and equally wrapped in her own thoughts; he’s far too preoccupied with the looks his sisters exchange to even think that something was amiss.

“I was only going to stay for a couple of hours, enough to satisfy Dorian before things got out of hand.”

“You mean before the ladies catch a whiff that you’re single,” Rosalie teases.

He snorts into his mug, taking his time while sipping the scalding drink.

“Yes, yes, before it comes to that. Anyway, I’m about to leave when I see her,” he turns to look at her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. She responds with a small smile, hoping that it doesn’t come out forced.

“Details, Cullen, we need details!”

“Did you two dance? How did you introduce yourself?”

“What were you wearing?” Rosalie asks Kaeran.

She blinks dumbly. What was she wearing at the engagement party? Her mind goes to the first dress she remembers that sits crumpled in her duffle bag.

“Black cocktail dress, lace sleeves with a pretty black bow on the front.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely!”

“Go on, Cullen, how did you exactly meet?” Mia prods, excited for the details but not wanting to rush. It had been ages (far too many) since she pestered her brother about his love life.

“Well,” he has a few seconds to think of the circumstance of their supposed first encounter when Kaeran swipes her thumb against his hand, giving him the boost of confidence he needed.

“She was sitting on the edge of the fountain outside the hall. At first, I thought she was drunk because she was barefoot but as I got closer--”

“Cullen approaching drunk girls, ha!” Rosalie exclaims, interrupting him.

“I wasn’t—” Kaeran starts only to stop. She can’t correct him nor can she rewrite the events of that night. There are two versions, the real and heart wrenching night she had and the fantasy that Cullen was weaving together. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t pick up the story and divert it elsewhere without raising suspicions; she had to trust him and if she was being honest with herself, she was curious to see where Cullen would take the story.

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” He frowns and the way his face scrunches has Kaeran imagining him much younger and pouting at his sisters’ teasing. She restrains herself from actually cooing at him…in front of him and his sisters.

Rosalie snaps her jaw shut and with index and thumb, mimes sealing her lips shut. Mia only nods, encouraging her brother to continue.

“I _thought_ she was drunk because she was barefoot but when I got closer, I saw her shoes were tossed aside and one of them had the heel snapped off. Nothing could’ve been done to fix them on the spot. I asked her if there was anything I could do, if she came with someone and needed their help. I secretly hoped that she wasn’t attached to someone and would accept my assistance.”

He looks at her and finds her blushing. The unexpected reaction makes him burn, not with shame but something else entirely, a nearly forgotten feeling. He hopes his hands don’t start to sweat, especially the one that still holds hers. Ever faithful in her part, Kaeran gives his hand a small squeeze, rallying him to keep going.

The corners of his mouth tick upwards before he resumes.

-//-

Finally, after a couple of refills of tea and the demise of the pastry buns, Mia, Rosalie and the children get ready to leave. While Kaeran cooed over Cullen’s youngest nephew who slept the entire stay while strapped to his mother, Mia pulled Cullen aside to have a moment alone.

“Can we talk?”

The question makes Cullen go rigid. He’s afraid to glance at Kaeran. Did she hear Mia? Part of him dreaded that his sister saw through his machinations. Mia was ever observant and very little slipped past her without her knowledge. She always knew how to read him but also when to give him space and when he needed to talk—even when he felt too vulnerable, too close to the breaking point, the eldest Rutherford always knew.

He leads her out of the main living room and down the hallway. As they walked, he tried not to feel so small. He was a grown man and couldn’t always rely on his sister to know what was best for him. She had children of her own for Maker’s sake.

“What is it?” he goes for nonchalant. Tries to, anyway.

They’re standing in front of Cullen’s bedroom and he silently curses at the fact that the room looks more like it has one occupant rather than a couple. He hopes that Mia doesn’t notice how pitifully barren the bedroom looks with just the large bed in the center, the dresser pushed to one wall and the desk against the other.

Mia’s eyebrows quirk at the sight of boxes piled haphazardly.

“No comment,” she mumbles, fidgeting with the handles of her tote bag. Cullen can’t help but detect her motherly tone.

She purses her lips and studies his face silently. Despite the years of experience, Mia is careful with her words. He wonders for the umpteenth time what she would’ve been like had their parents been around longer, would she choose differently or would she be just as concerned?

“Are you happy?”

He blinks. “Happy?”

“Well, you two haven’t been dating that long and decide to move in together. Don’t get me wrong, your girlfriend is rather lovely. Rosalie is smitten with her already.”

Cullen snorts at that. 

“Well, she can’t have her.”

The faux indignation bleeds into a tinge of possessiveness and he has to remind himself to reel it back, that Kaeran isn’t really his at all. They’re more than acquaintances, closer to partners in this scheme. He realizes that they barely discussed the terms of their pretend relationship and things nearly went sideways when his sisters surprised them with the unplanned visit. He makes a mental note to discuss boundaries with Kaeran later on before anyone else decides to make a surprise visit.

He realizes that he still hasn’t answered Mia’s question. He’s torn between lying and coming clean about the whole thing but then he remembers how content he felt back when they were in the kitchen gathered around the table. Even though Kaeran wasn’t his girlfriend, he still felt lighter than he could remember. This place, having someone like her as a roommate, it made sense to him somehow; like a step in the right direction with no hurry to find the next one and trusting that he’ll get to where he was meant to be.

He clears his throat.

“I am happy. She makes me happy, Mia. You needn’t worry.” 

“Beatrice also made you happy. For a while, anyway. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought her up.” Mia rarely flushed and Cullen felt guilty. He gently pulled her into a hug.

“I’m not mad, Mia. She was right and I don’t fault her at all. I learned a lot since then and it’s brought me here.”

Mia pulled away, nodding.

“Well, as long as you’re happy, we’re happy for you.”

“Thank you, Mia.”

“Though, warn her about Bran. He might have the same idea as us and drop by unexpectedly.”

He chuckles, eyes narrowing. “I’d like to see him try and sweep Kaeran off her feet.”

“Oh, you’re that confident? She better be faithful, otherwise I will have some stern words with her.”

“You’ll put the fear of the Maker in her?”

She grinned at him widely. “I doubt that it’ll come to that, Cullen.”

He glanced at the tote bag she carried.

“Was this private meeting meant to assuage your concerns, or is there something else?”

“Oh, right!” she opened the bag, pulling out a wooden box and offering it to him.

It occurred to Cullen that until that moment he had completely forgotten about the wooden relic and with some hesitation he took it from her, cradling it in his hands as though it was a sacred token. No, it absolutely is sacred. He felt a lump in his throat and the corners of his eyes began to sting. The world around them seemed to hush and he was very much aware of his heart beating rather loudly.

He was still staring at the wooden box when a gentle hand pressed against one of his.

“Where—how? I thought it was lost in—”

“I thought so too but Bran found it in one of their boxes.”

He looked at her and saw how her eyes misted over. He shook his head and offered her the box.

“I can’t have this. Out of all the things we have left—” _of them_ he wanted to say.

She calmly pushed it back towards him, her voice firm and with the authority of being the eldest sibling, “We have other things just as precious. It’s time that you have a piece of your own.”

He blinked the tears away and cleared his throat. “Right, um, thank you.”

She placed a hand on his arm, patting lightly.

“Anyway, this gives me an excuse to come over more often.”

He jerked his head at that, indignant.

“Mia…”

“Don’t you ‘Mia’ me, Cullen Stanton Rutherford! You owe me that rematch!”

-//-

Watching Cullen with his siblings was interesting; they laughed, joked, argued and flustered. Seeing these kinds of interactions always had Kaeran wondering what her life would have been like with siblings. Would she be a different person? Would some of the decisions she made change if she had someone else to look out for?

Looking at the Rutherford sisters, she can see how they each stood out in their own way but together they were a complementary force.

Between Cullen and his sisters, she saw the family resemblance and marvelled at how their mannerisms and facial expressions matched. Mia and Cullen were like twins, especially when frowning or teasing one another while Rosalie mirrored her brother’s pensive look but added an eye roll when annoyed. Kaeran also noticed that Rosalie favoured small smiles like Cullen but hers were still wider than his. She tried not to overthink what that could mean.

Instead, she tried to imagine what the mysterious Branson Rutherford looked like. Was he the spitting image of Cullen but younger and more carefree? It was impossible to imagine a twin version of Cullen without that scar. As she chewed on her bottom lip, the fingers of her left hand went to her face, idling touching her marks. She was awfully thankful that no one mentioned or stared at her burn marks.

Since she visited her parents, she hadn’t put any of that dreadful cream on. It still sat in her duffle bag unbothered as she unpacked some of her belongings. When Cullen showed up at the apartment— _their_ apartment—she worried that perhaps she should have covered up her marks, at least make them less noticeable and make her more presentable.

And then, Cullen’s sisters and niece and nephews arrived unexpectedly and she wanted nothing more than to hide, fearing their judgment and mentally kicking herself for not thinking about what his family would think about dating someone like her. What did they think of her? Had Cullen mentioned anything to them?

She braced herself for the children to say something about her face and yet there were no comments or questions about it. They just wanted to know if she was their aunt now and if there would be babies. Tears welled in her eyes and it was such a strange mixture of feelings that she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what she felt.

“So, when’s the housewarming party?”

Kaeran didn’t realize that she was left alone with Rosalie and the children. She hadn’t even considered throwing a party, perhaps foolish even considering that her and Cullen weren’t romantically involved. Still, it would be a nice excuse to have friends over. Whatever friends were left, she thought bitterly.

“Housewarming?” she started.

“Party?” Moira chimed in. It was adorable to watch her eyes grow wide with excitement.

“Can I come?” the girl entreated with her aunt and looked back at Kaeran for support.

Great. No pressure whatsoever. She fidgeted, running her hand nervously through her hair and gathering it to the side.

“Well, I don’t know…”

“Pleeeaase!” Moira turned to her aunt, puppy eyes in full effect. Kaeran let out a small sigh of relief that Cullen’s niece didn’t shoot that look her way.

“Housewarmings are more for adults, Moira.”

“I don’t want to set Moira’s hopes up, but maybe if you guys come over earlier in the afternoon? If it doesn’t put a wrench in your schedule, I mean, I don’t know your plans but it would be nice.”

Kaeran hopes that the offer doesn’t come back to haunt her; she spares a thought for Cullen, unsure of what he would think. Did he dislike parties? Was this one huge misstep?

Rosalie considers for a moment, ignoring her petulant niece.

“I don’t see a problem but…” she trails, grinning wickedly at Moira, “there are two conditions: first, your mommy has to say yes to you going _and_ you have to help out with decorating since Kaeran can’t do it all by herself.”

Kaeran laughs off the demand, “I’m sure Cullen wouldn’t mind helping, there’s no need to put the kids to work.”

“Please, my brother is absolutely useless in all things fun, it’s not part of his vocabulary and if he recognized it, he’d cease to function.”

“I heard that,” Cullen calls from the hallway. Mia reappears before her brother with a barely contained smile. Kaeran tries not to laugh at his annoyed expression.

“What are you two conspiring?” Mia asks.

“Oh, just planning a housewarming party.” Rosalie replies too casually.

“Whose housewarming?”

“Yours and Kaeran’s, you dolt.” Rosalie challenges him, “there’s no way getting around it this time.”

Cullen rolls his eyes while Kaeran briefly glances his way. There was another time?

“Mommy,” Moira calls oh so innocently. “Can I go to Uncle Cullen and Aunt Kaeran’s housewarming party?”

“Oh, I’m not sure, sweetheart, usually that’s for grown ups.”

“But, Aunt Rosie said that I can help with decorations.”

“It’s a nice thought but it takes a lot of work and those kinds of parties start way past your bedtime.”

Not wanting to see Moira’s hopes getting crushed, Kaeran adds, “Actually, I mentioned to Rosalie that it wouldn’t be a problem and we can have you all over earlier if that works.”

Mia purses her lips, thinking. Moira stares up at her silently, hoping with all her might.

“Cullen?”

“Mia,” he replies, his voice unreadable.

“Would it be alright by you if we stopped by earlier, before the party?”

He sighs. “I suppose there’s no way around this.”

“Nope.” Rosalie’s grin is wide and possibly nefarious. Kaeran believes she’s her kindred sister.

“Alright, fine,” he deflates, “We’ll get back to you with a date, and you better be free that day because I won’t change it.”

“Fine,” both sisters reply coolly. Moira jumps up and down while whispering ‘yes’ under her breath.

Barring Cullen, it felt like a victory.

When Mia, Rosalie and the children left, Kaeran found herself on the precipice of the unknown. She had met most of his family, what was the next step?

Once his family was out of view, Cullen leaned against the front door before turning around. With eyes closed he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling creeping in his gut. He decided that rather than reflect further on the jumbled feelings that he needed a distraction.

“Kaeran?”

“Hmm?” She danced into his view. Maker, she must be made of magic since all uncomfortable thoughts and sensations vanished when he opened his eyes.

The back of his neck felt warm and his fingers itched to rub that spot. He cleared his throat instead.

“I know that the housewarming party idea was hatched by my sister, she can’t resist planning events even if she’s on mat leave. But since you struck a deal with her, here’s my deal to you: you and me finally get to have that lunch _and_ I’ll help you set up your bedframe. Deal?”

She looks down, hiding her flushed face as best she can with her curtain of hair. She just knows that her exposed pointed pink ear gives her away. Still, she addresses the floor while toeing a nearby whorl.

“Not sure that’s a fair deal for you.”

“Regardless, that’s my offer.”

She looks up and finds that he’s closer than she anticipated. Apparently this human is capable of sneaking up on her and she’s suddenly very hungry but not for the sushi in the fridge. 

“Alright,” Kaeran smiles, her eyes devouring him whole. “I accept your offer.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaeran gets distracted by many things, Cullen flusters over his cup of coffee and Rhona suddenly and unexpectedly has her hands full.

 

The mugs and dishes used from Rosalie and Mia’s visit are in the sink. The design of the dishware is simple with its two earthy tones of burnish brown and taupe and sandwiched between them, a thin ribbon of red. _Very Ferelden_ , Kaeran notes as she inspects one of the mugs including the simple handle. Whatever ornamentation there might have been was worn away with love and attention from being carefully washed and stored away through the years. She had to commend how the ceramic pieces were sturdy and seemingly ageless for their classic aesthetic.

Following the departure of Cullen’s sisters, niece and nephews, they lunched on the sushi Kaeran had bought earlier. Both were famished and said little while enjoying the rolls of rice and fish. Kaeran was surprised to see how much of the spicy green paste Cullen had put into his soya sauce. She feared that he had underestimated the potency of it but he gave no hint that he went overzealous with the paste. She remembered Dorian once lamenting over how Cullen had no taste for spices and always ordered bland dishes when they went out. Kaeran wasn’t so sure if Cullen had his moments or he was just trying to impress her. Still, he didn’t choke over his spiced sushi, so perhaps this was a special treat that he didn’t have the chance to indulge in so often.

She made a mental note to ask Dorian about that later. There were quite a few things she didn’t know about Cullen but realized that he was at a greater disadvantage…unless he knew more than he let on? Had Dorian told him anything?

Cullen had taken care of the Styrofoam containers and cleared the table while Kaeran hand washed the mugs and dishes in the sink. Leaning his hip against the counter next to her, he grabbed a dishcloth and began to dry what was on the rack.

She must’ve been going too slowly with washing the ceramics since Cullen opened his mouth with a saucy comment.

“You done admiring my dinnerware?”

Kaeran paused in thought before sparing him a quick glance before picking up the pace.

“Should I be admiring something else?”

Her view was suddenly obscured by a pattern that looked familiar. She grumbled while pulling off the dishcloth, annoyed that the offending cloth had mussed her hair. When she finally managed to tame it, she turned to glare at Cullen who resisted breaking his smirk into a guffaw. She must not have been completely successful in fixing her hair since Cullen reached for a thick strand that was caught on the shaved side. How embarrassing. Still, he gives her an apologetic smile before clearing his throat.

“So,” she begins, when he doesn’t. She notices that he’s fidgeting with his hands. They’re beautiful to behold and she resists snorting because since when does she fixate on some guy’s dinnerware and hands? She blames the new environment and how it remains strange for her like new skin growing over wounds: rough, itchy, not quite right and easy to pick off and start again. She tries not to prod too much.

“So,” he replies softly, deciding that the best way to deal with his hands is to firmly tuck them in the pockets of his jeans. If Cullen noticed the small hiss that briefly escapes her lips, he doesn’t give a sign of it. Although he is entranced by the way she is now biting her bottom lip. She’s thinking of how to follow up this lax progression of conversation.

Kaeran decides to go with facts. They’re free of emotions that reveal too much.

“You met my mother.”

Cullen hums, one of his hands escapes and he’s rubbing the side of his neck, trying not to go for the back, a habit he tends to do and cannot keep in check. Kaeran opts to focus on the dishcloth in her hand, folding it neatly and lining up the corners.

“And you met my insufferable sisters,” he says.

“And your niece and nephews,” she adds.

The reality snaps Cullen out of the haze and his face blushes from a light pink to bright red. He winces, “Yes…I hope they weren’t too much.” He even looks apologetic and Mythal bless him, how could she hold it against him? Even if his niece and nephews were absolute monsters she would absolve him.

“Not at all, I thought they were sweet. I mean, did it get awkward? A bit but as far as first meetings go, I think it went well.”

“I’m glad,” he says slightly breathless. Kaeran hated how handsome he looked despite the flush and evident nervousness.

“Your sisters are not that bad.”

He snorts at that. “Try growing up with them.”

“Isn’t that how it always is with siblings?”

Cullen furrows his brow, “You don’t have any?”

She shakes her head. “I suppose the closest thing I have to a sibling is my cousin, Rhona. Lots of growing up together…”

“Making stupid mistakes?” He jokes.

She smirks, her lips stretching thin, as though worried any secrets my slip between them. He doesn’t miss the mischievous twinkle in her eyes that say “wouldn’t you want to know” and yet, he also notes a bit on sadness in them.

“As long as there are more good memories than bad ones.”

Wanting to change subject, Kaeran sets the dishcloth aside, “So when do I meet your parents? I’m more nervous about that.”

When she doesn’t hear his response, she turns to look back at him and instantly regrets her question. Shit.

“I said something wrong.” She really, really needed that chat with Dorian.

Cullen’s frown is gone and though he’s mostly composed, there’s still tightness around his eyes and she senses that some of it must’ve come from that private conversation he had with his sister, Mia.

“You didn’t know.”

“How,” she begins, unsure how best to continue the thread of conversation, debating even, if it wasn’t best to steer it elsewhere. She wants to hug him but also give him some space. Kaeran’s unsure which action to take, what was appropriate. They’re both strangers in uncharted waters and whatever good footing they had earlier seemed to transform into a minefield of personal baggage.

“I was fourteen when they died. Mia was fifteen. It’ll be twenty years next spring.”

She can’t imagine losing her parents all at once, but at such a young age? Her heart lurched, unable to imagine Cullen so young and losing them; having to grow up without them, learning so much on their own, growing up faster than expected and coping without parents.

“You’re thirty-three?” It feels like she’s grasping at straws but what else is she supposed to ask? Asking how it happened felt cold, and though a normal follow up question, Kaeran didn’t want to pry. Not unless he was willing to tell her and the fact that he hadn’t brought up his parents sooner meant otherwise. She assumed that the relationship was strained, not prematurely severed and buried six feet under.

Some tension must’ve bled out since Cullen is eyeing her oddly, actually looking at her from head to toe as though he is only seeing her for the first time and now she’s the one that is fidgeting under his scrutiny. Catching himself, he looks to her left while rubbing the back of his neck. “Y-yes…is that a problem?”

She hadn’t considered how old he was until just now. She assumed that he was slightly older than her but she can’t help but be impressed that he looks good for someone his age. She suspects that the tight lines in his face and slightly pronounced cheekbones were from stress and working long hours.

When she stares back at him, his brows are raised, eyes rounded. Cullen looks younger in that moment, a contradiction to his thirty-three years in this world. Hands on her hips, she tilts her head to the side, assessing quietly. She can tell that he’s holding his breath in anticipation.

Finally.

“No, not a problem,” she says, “just a bit put out, really. I thought we were closer in age and I’m honestly offended that you don’t look your age.”

“Looks are deceiving,” he joked.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she quipped back.

“Would you mind me asking how old you are?”

“Not at all, I’m twenty-eight,” she stated.

Cullen visibly deflated, “Thank the Maker,” he breathed. Kaeran had quirked her eyebrow in response to his reaction.

“Sorry, for a moment I was worried that you were…”

“Younger.”

“Yes, much younger.”

“Admit you were worried that people would start teasing you about being a cradle robber.”

“Can’t have that.”

“No, that won’t do,” she said, a hint of a smile curling the corners of her mouth. “Now that we’ve established that, I’m not entirely sure that we convinced your sisters that we’re a couple.”

“We’re bad at this,” he groans, one hand covering his face. “We didn’t establish a story of how we met and we’re only figuring out each other’s age. What a mess.”

“Hey, hey,” she walks up to him, resting her hand lightly on his arm, “don’t worry, we’ve got time to make it work.”

He peeks through the cracks between his fingers, muffling out, “In time before the housewarming you suddenly sprung up?”

Kaeran’s face is an open book, he realizes, flitting from concern to schooling into something between impassive and cool.

She smacks his arm, again, lightly. “I’ll pretend I heard a ‘thank you’ somewhere in there. So,” she rubs her hands together, glad to change the subject. “Ready to make good on that promise of yours?”

Cullen is very much thankful that Kaeran doesn’t hesitate to pick up the lead.

-//-

It’s a slow day at The Dales Bakehouse and Rhona is wondering for the twentieth time this hour why they bother being open during the long weekend. Having recently acquired the rights of the bakehouse, she is still new to many aspects of being a business owner but relishes the challenge; it’s why the previous owners were happy to give her the keys, they knew that the bakehouse was in good hands.

The Dales was a second home to Rhona who moved out of the ‘burbs in her late teens and lived by couch surfing for a while before saving enough money to afford rent for a bedroom. Despite working long hours for various jobs, she stayed in touch with family. They always encouraged her to return home and to her studies but Rhona found that as much as she loved her family she couldn’t bear to be a burden to them. She couldn’t go back to school, didn’t have the discipline for it, and decided to go on her own and figure things out along the way. Within the last eight years she had learned a lot from her various jobs, what worked, what didn’t and especially, who to avoid.

Considering the series of miscalculations and gem opportunities that shaped her, she wasn’t faring too badly if she was the owner of a thriving bakehouse that garnered an interesting mix of clientele. Rhona loved what she did; the everyday challenges and decisions to keep The Dales a welcoming place for customers, young and old, and a shining beacon in a sea of café franchises.

She was just about to go check on the new pastry chef downstairs when the bell above the entranceway dinged, signalling a newcomer. Rhona pulled her long copper braid to drape down her back.

“Afternoon,” the man approached.

Rhona grinned at him, recognizing the man, “Well if it isn’t the handsome Ansom. How are ya doing today?”

Ansom let out a loud scream sneeze and was able to successfully cover it in the crook of his elbow. Rhona winced, the sound incredibly loud to her sensitive ears and at the fact that Ansom was clearly under the weather.

“Still got that cold?”

“Yeh,” he replied, grabbing a napkin from the counter and blowing his nose. He neatly folded the napkin and tucked it in the pocket of his coat.

“You sure you’re getting better? You look feverish.” The guy did look quite flushed and his eyes were watery and unfocused.

“’m fine,” he waved her off.

Ansom began visiting The Dales shortly after Rhona had discovered the place. Frequent sightings and friendly demeanor meant that they inevitably began to greet each other and slowly got to know more of the other. Ansom was, well, handsome, but held fast to his boyish charms and he never hesitated to flirt unless it wasn’t welcome. He was a nice guy, a carpenter by trade and had good taste in music, something which he and Rhona discussed with great length.

He tried to give Rhona his heartthrob smile but it warbled and the last straw was how suddenly white his face turned.

“Ansom, I swear to Mythal if you—”

She didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence; the guy nearly crumpled to the floor and struggled to stay on his feet, muttering to himself.

“Damn you,” she scowled, rounding the corner to come to his aid.

Once she grabbed him firmly under his arms and hauled him up, she called out for the chef.

“I’m fine,” Ansom repeated. Rhona tsked at him. If he weren’t so pale she would’ve smacked some sense into him.

“Thea!” she called again, hoping that the only other employee in the bakehouse wasn’t out of reach. Footsteps replied to her call as the qunari emerged from the staircase, apron wrapped across her waist (the widest she could find) and a cloth in her hands to wash off most of the flour from her large hands.

“What’s up?” she asked before her calm manner shifted to one of concern as soon as she saw the man slouching against the chair. “I’ll get some cold compress, want me to call an ambulance?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ansom replied.

Rhona snapped her head to glare at him. “So help me, Ansom, I’ll make it much worse for you if you keep insisting that you’re fine.” She turned to Thea then, “hold off on the ambulance, I’m taking him with me. What’s the situation downstairs?”

Thea wiped her hands against the apron, mentally assessing the state of the kitchen in the basement. “Got a couple of things in the oven, some pastries that can be stored in the refrigerator for now, nothing urgent. Why?”

“How do you feel about leaving early today? I promise you’ll be compensated for the full shift, no questions asked.”

“You sure, boss?” Any other time she would have insisted on not being called ‘boss’ but this was different and Rhona relished the fact that she could make such a call with no one to answer to. She was the boss, after all.

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

-//-

_She can’t believe that he’s doing this. Of all nights, this had to happen tonight. Tonight was important, she’d told him about the engagement party months ago. She had been optimistic that he would make the effort._

_“You don’t care about my friends.”_

_“What does it matter when I care for you?” She shakes her head._

_“You don’t want me to go, by refusing you think I’ll cancel my plans and stay in with you.”_

_He doesn’t look up from his notes, always engrossed in work even when he was pulled away from the archives. “If you want to go then go, but there’s no point in me going, besides, I found something interesting in my research, I can’t give it up now.”_

_She fumed. Why was she so stupid to think that he would change his habits and make an exception for once? He drove her crazier than usual. It didn’t take much nowadays._

_“You always do this, what’s the point? You don’t want to know anything about my friends, you don’t put the effort.”_

_He shrugs, a small innocent smile, “Vhenan, I don’t know them and I know they don’t think much of me. What’s the point in going if I’ll be sitting at a table surrounded by strangers.”_

_“You’d be with me!” she snapped, “Spend time with me other than just seeing me at work or living under this roof with you! A change of scenery…and they wouldn’t be strangers if you made an effort in getting to know them. These kinds of parties are a good way to mingle.”_

_He sighed, finally looking at her and sounding annoyed, “sounds like work.”_

_“Friendship_ is _work, very much like a relationship.”_

_“I disagree. You either like someone or you don’t. It’s up to you to decide to pursue a meaningful relationship.”_

_She shook her head in disbelief. “This is the problem, you’re not even willing to try, not even for my sake.” Pause. “Fine, I’m going. I’ll be damned if I stay cooped up in here a moment longer, especially when there’s no point in reasoning with you.”_

_“If that is your wish, very well. Have a good time, my love.”_

_As she exited their loft, she wrestled with her emotions, wishing the conversation went better. After fights like this one she always wondered if there was another way she could have talked it through, if she said things differently, if she had put more time and patience. Time, she huffed; she gave plenty of that along with patience as well as her sanity._

_What infuriates her is that despite all this, she still wishes that he conceded and joined her. She resolves to not let his absence affect her night; tonight is a celebration after all. She will take this opportunity to see her friends again, catch up and enjoy the festivity._

_Her plan is only mildly successful as she bumps into friends, quite a few of them surprised to see her there while others have turned cold towards her attempts in making amends and catching up. She refuses to think that Solas was right and that she should have stayed in for the night. She also promised herself that she wouldn’t drink too much._

_If she was honest with herself, she had a lot on her mind and barely minded the number of drinks she consumed through the night._

“Everything alright?”

“Hm..? Oh, sorry.”

“I lost you for a bit. Thought maybe you were having second thoughts about this bed.”

“What?” she says, not really up to speed with what’s going on or her surroundings. She could have sworn that she was elsewhere, that it wasn’t just a trick from her brain simply fucking with her.

“I know you picked it but if you’re having second thoughts, maybe tell me? As much as it is a pain to assemble Samna furniture, you don’t want to try pulling it apart.”

Oh, right. The Samna furniture…her bed frame that Cullen offered to help build. She’s lucky that he was kind enough to volunteer since she hadn’t even thought about the grueling task of putting together her own bed. Rhona probably would’ve laughed at her and hung up (still laughing) if she called to ask.

“Oh! No. The bed is fine, sorry, just a bit spacey. Kind of a big deal moving in with my short-term fake boyfriend.”

“Ouch. I know it hasn’t been conventionally long but short term?”

“How long has it been then?” She meant it as a joke but apparently Cullen doesn’t get nuances. In any other circumstance she would’ve found it annoying but right now? Cullen was being insufferably endearing. He’s so sweet that Kaeran practically feels cavities filming her teeth. She momentarily panics over whether she packed her toothbrush only to remember a few seconds later that it was in her bag.

He’s cupping his mug of coffee and scrunches his face, actually calculating. Creators, even when he makes a stupid face she has the urge to do something stupid. What in the Void is wrong with her?

Once he takes a sip—aside from learning more about his family, his age, Kaeran also catalogues how he’s a total caffeine fiend—he’s satisfied with his estimation.

“I’d say…almost two months,” he says finally.

She has to whistle at that estimation. “Really?”

“Hm-mhm. We didn’t even do anything special for our first month.”

She scoffs at that. “Are you one of those types?”

Cullen shrugs, slightly on the defensive. “For the right girl, I might be inclined for sappy and seemingly absurd milestones.”

Kaeran hides her nervous smile with her hand. Unbelievable. Her fake boyfriend is a total sap. “You must think you’re so smooth.”

“Quite the opposite but I’m glad to hear that my nervousness isn’t so obvious.”

“You? Nervous?”

He snorts before taking another sip. “Are you kidding? I have the calm collectiveness of a fennec fox.”

“Well, it’s reassuring, but you need to give yourself more credit than that." 

“You’re too kind,” he says drily. A total sap and a snark, she can’t believe it. Where was Dorian hiding this guy?

“You’re not far off…”

“Pardon?”

“Fennec fox? They’re fidgety but also really cute.”

He doesn’t know how to respond, his mind blanking and words refusing to come out, his throat tightening suddenly. He clears it and fusses with the pages of instructions, engrossed in the simple illustrations than the beauty sitting across from him.

“Um…shall we move on to the next step?” He chances a brief glance her way before shuffling through the instructions, trying to find the step they’re stuck on.

Kaeran indulges him by following his lead and shifting her focus to assembling the furniture. She crawls on all fours, scrutinizing the collection of nails, bolts and tiny wooden dowels and giving Cullen a break by not further flustering the poor man.

He flips through the pages, seemingly lost. As though they were codex pages written in a language long forgotten. Or distracted, she thinks. Why is it so easy to tease him? She hasn’t had this much fun in ages. She chides herself for her own distraction and as entertaining as it is to flirt and torture Cullen with suggestive looks, she really didn’t want to drag the task of assembling her bedframe longer than necessary.

He misreads her silence and continues, “It’s alright, everyone has a couple of sore spots.”

“Normal people?” she asks quizzically.

“Are you implying that we’re not normal?” Oh dear, was he being sarcastic?

Where to begin? Both of them were ridiculously guilty of abnormal behaviour. Her own issues, his closeted past, the fact that their relationship is a complete sham just to score an apartment, their lie growing ever larger as they fabricated more falsehoods for Cullen’s family (which they ate up).

And now they’re throwing a house warming party…as a couple. Kaeran could go on, instead, she replied, “Well, I’m not normal.”

“Something that I need to worry about?” he joked.

“At ease, Rutherford, I don’t have any tricks up my sleeves, just a bad breakup and wounded pride. I’ll heal…in time." 

“If I may ask, why not move back with the parents? Your mother seems nice. Unless…”

She sighs at that, a long, laboured exhale before slowly breathing in again.

“The parents aren’t the issue. I—” her voice cracks infinitesimally, he almost doesn’t notice. He gives her time by preoccupying himself and examining one of the bags full of screws and wooden dowels.

Kaeran appreciates the gesture, resuming, “I’m the issue. They say they’ve forgiven me but you know how it is, you can’t help but carry that guilt with you. Try and make it up to them. It’s going to be a long while before I feel like I’ve done enough to wipe that slate clean. If at all.”

Cullen’s features soften from confusion to understanding. “I know the feeling, I’m like that too. It doesn’t matter how many times others forgive you, you have to learn to accept it eventually in your own terms.”

She hums and Cullen takes a sip of his coffee, letting her mull over his words. Despite the topic of conversation, he finds it easy to talk to her; if there’s a lull in the conversation with Kaeran neither of them is pressed to fill the silence for the sake of it.  

The fact that he offered to help was a nice surprise and meanwhile she repays him by acting coy one moment and moody the next. She better stop before she ends up riling herself up too much. Maybe Rhona was right to say that her previous relationship dragged on for too long. Although her cousin meant well when she mentioned her hooking up with people, Kaeran knew that she needed the release but the thought of sleeping with a stranger was unappealing. Not to mention how she’d feel afterwards. It didn’t help either that she was self-conscious of her body and of the lingering vallaslin she insisted on covering.

She tried to not think about the cream that was nestled in the bottom of her duffle bag. Her skin flushed, itching, almost craving for the damn thing. She resisted the impulse to rub and scratch at her face.

“Kaeran?”

“Hmm?” Oh shit. How long was she stuck in her own spiraling thoughts? How embarrassing.

If she was wrapped in her own thoughts for long, he didn’t mention it. Instead he gave her a warm smile that tingled her from her roots to her toes. “You must’ve been quite the daydreamer when you were young.”

Quick as a whip, “Are you inferring that I’m _old_ , Cullen?”

“Never. You can be twice your age and I bet you still wouldn’t look a day over thirty.”

She has a strong urge to throw a handful of dowels his way but then they wouldn’t be able to progress much and Mythal knew where those blighted wooden pegs needed to go.

Instead she toys with them, sticking them between her fingers like crude claws, incredibly crude, blunt and stunted claws.

“So…” she trails off.

“So…”

“How about that next step?” she asks.

His eyes twinkled with mirth and a bit of mischief. There was also a promise hidden in those alluring ochre toned eyes.

Oh, be steady her beating heart. He is going to absolutely ruin her.

 _Let him_ , she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live!! Well, sort of...a little over a month since the last update but I'm pretty darn proud of how this one turned out.


End file.
